THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE   PACIFIC  COAST  SCENIC  TOUR 


THE 


PACIFIC  COAST  SCENIC  TOUR 


FROM  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA   TO  ALASKA 

THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC   RAILWAY 

YELLOWSTONE    PARK  AND 

THE  GRAND  CANON 


BY 


HENRY  T.   FINCK 

AUTHOR  OF  "  ROMANTIC  LOVE  AND  PERSONAL  BEAUTY,"  "  CHOPIN  AND  OTHER 
MUSICAL  ESSAYS  " 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1891 


COPYRIGHT,  1890, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


Fzsi 

SRO! 

URt 


TO  MY  FRIEND  AND  COLLEAGUE 

WENDELL    PHILLIPS   GARRISON 


661691 


PREFACE. 

BOOKS  on  California  and  Alaska  exist  in  abundance, 
if  not  superabundance;  but  the  intervening  States  of 
Oregon  and  Washington  have  been  comparatively 
neglected  in  a  way  which  seems  surprising  when  we 
consider  the  remarkable  scenic  and  climatic  attractions 
of  those  States,  their  industrial  resources,  and  the  great 
future  which  doubtless  lies  before  them.  The  present 
volume  is  an  attempt  to  give  a  general  and  impartial 
view  of  the  whole  Pacific  Coast,  from  San  Diego  to 
Sitka.  Covering  such  a  vast  territory,  it  cannot,  of 
course,  make  any  pretensions  to  exhaustiveness,  but  is 
simply  an  endeavor  to  reproduce  the  local  color  of  each 
State,  by  describing  a  few  typical  and  important  locali- 
ties in  each.  I  have  naturally  chosen  the  most  favor- 
able specimens,  as  every  author  or  other  mortal  does  in 
showing  samples  of  a  thing  with  which  he  is  in  love. 
I  am  in  love  with  the  Pacific  Coast,  because  after  living 
on  it  eleven  years,  at  various  times,  and  twelve  years 
on  the  Atlantic  Coast,  I  have  found  the  scenery  so 
much  grander  and  the  climate  so  much  more  delightful 
and  exhilarating  on  the  western  side  of  our  continent 
than  on  the  eastern ;  and  climate  and  scenery,  in  my 
opinion,  make  up  fully  one-half  of  human  happiness. 
Scenery,  indeed,  requires  some  aesthetic  culture  for  its 
appreciation,  but  climate  affects  all  alike ;  and  where 
the  sky  is  habitually  overcast  with  clouds,  and  the  air 


yiii  PEBFACB. 

humid  and  sultry,  the  millionaire  suffers  from  habitual 
depression  of  spirits  just  as  much  as  the  beggar. 

If  the  enthusiasm  which  pervades  these  pages  should 
prove  contagious  to  some  of  the  readers,  I  do  not  fear 
that  any  of  them  will  chide  me  hereafter  for  having 
induced  them  to  emigrate  to  the  West, — least  of  all, 
those  who  are  in  comfortable  circumstances  and  wish 
to  spend  their  last  days  amid  bright  and  cheerful  sur- 
roundings, and  in  a  climate  which  favors  longevity.  It 
is  my  solemn  determination  to  build  a  chateau  some- 
where on  the  Pacific  Coast  for  myself  some  day,  —  if  I 
can  manage  the  "  comfortable  circumstances."  Tour- 
ists, however,  I  must  add,  may  possibly  take  the  Pacific 
Coast  Scenic  Tour  described  in  this  volume  and  come 
back  more  or  less  disappointed.  This  will  probably  be 
the  case  if  they  visit  Southern  California  in  July,  the 
Yosemite  in  October,  Oregon  and  Washington  in  Aug- 
ust, and  Alaska  before  July  or  after  September;  for 
they  will  then  find  the  temperature  uncomfortably  high 
in  Southern  California,  and  the  water-falls  reduced  to  a 
minimum  in  the  Yosemite ;  while  in  Oregon  and  Wash- 
ington they  will  probably  see  nothing  at  all,  on  account 
of  the  dense  smoke  from  forest  fires ;  and  in  Alaska 
the  mountains  will  be  obscured  by  mist  and  rain.  But 
just  as  a  prudent  sight-seer  does  not  visit  Switzerland 
except  between  the  middle  of  June  and  the  middle  of 
October,  so  we  have  a  right  to  expect  of  him  that  he 
will  plan  his  trip  to  the  Pacific  Coast  for  the  most  favor- 
able season.  This  may  seem  difficult,  on  account  of  the 
great  distance  to  be  covered,  and  the  variety  of  climatic 
conditions  ;  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world.  Indeed,  this  trip  can  be  taken  in  such  a 
way  that  each  locality  as  described  in  succession  in  this 


PREFACE.  IX 

volume  can  be  seen  under  the  most  favorable  conditions 
possible.  If  an  excursion  agent  had  planned  the  cli- 
mate of  the  Pacific  Coast,  he  could  not  have  made  things 
more  delightfully  convenient  for  tourists.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  follow  spring  northwards.  Leave  the 
East  in  the  abominable  winter  months  and  spend  a  few 
months  in  Southern  California,  which  from  January  to 
April  is  a  paradise.  If  the  Southern  Pacific  or  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  railroads  are  taken,  there  will  be  no  danger 
of  a  snow  blockade,  the  temperature  will  be  comfort- 
able, and  the  scenic  attractions  abundant.  Early  in 
May,  when  vegetation  fades  in  Southern  California,  the 
Yosemite  should  be  visited  to  see  its  water-falls  at  their 
best.  San  Francisco  and  Tahoe  also  are  most  attractive 
hi  May.  Continuing  northward,  we  find  Oregon  and 
Washington  still  in  their  spring  garb  in  June,  while  the 
snow-peaks  are  not  yet  concealed  by  smoke.  July  and 
August  may  be  devoted  to  the  sea-coast  and  to  Alaska, 
and  in  September  the  return  trip  may  be  made  across 
the  Canadian  Pacific,  with  its  three  mountain  chains 
and  the  National  Park  as  its  chief  attractions ;  or  the 
Northern  Pacific,  which  among  its  attractions  includes 
the  Columbia  River  scenery,  the  snow-peaks  of  Oregon 
and  Washington,  Lake  Pend  D'Oreille,  and  the  Yel- 
lowstone National  Park;  or  the  Union  Pacific,  which 
includes  the  Sierra  Nevada,  Lake  Tahoe,  the  stupendous 
scenery  of  the  Rio  Grande,  Salt  Lake  City,  Denver,  and 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  —  three  routes  between  which  it 
is  difficult  to  make  a  choice. 

To  complete  the  American  Scenic  Tour,  we  must  of 
course  take  in  one  of  the  Great  Lakes,  Niagara  Falls, 
the  Thousand  Islands  and  Rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
Lakes  Champlain  and  George,  and  the  Hudson  River,  — 


X  PREFACE. 

scenes  which  have  been  too  often  described  to  be 
touched  upon  here.  I  have  seen  parts  of  four  conti- 
nents, but  am  still  looking  for  a  tour  equal  to  the  one 
outlined  in  this  volume  with  the  addition  just  named. 
It  includes  the  grandest  water-falls,  the  largest  lakes, 
the  finest  river  scenery  and  geysers,  the  most  stupen- 
dous glaciers,  and  some  of  the  most  superb  snow-peaks 
and  ranges  in  the  whole  world;  while  the  Yosemite 
and  the  Grand  Canon  are  absolutely  unique  and  with- 
out rivals  anywhere. 

Most  of  the  illustrations  in  this  volume  are  by  cour- 
teous permission  reproduced  from  photographs  in  the 
excellent  collection  of  Messrs.  Taber,  San  Francisco, 
Hayiies,  Yellowstone  Park,  B.  C.  Towne  &  Macalpin  & 
Lamb,  Portland,  and  Pierce  &  Blaiichard,  Los  Angeles. 

H,  T.  F. 

TOKIO,  JAPAN,  August,  1890. 


THE  PACIFIC  SLOPE— FROM  MEXICO  TO  ALASKA. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  Los  ANGELES  COUNTY. 

PAGE 

Across  the  Continent  —  A  Storm  in  the  Desert  —  A  Contemptuous  City 
—  Progress  and  Prospects  —  The  Land  Boom  —  Climate  and  Crops  — 
Ostrich-Farming  —  A  Vineyard  Terror  —  The  Native  Wines  —  Quail- 
Hunting  1 


II.  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA  IN  WINTER. 

A  Collapsed  "  Boom  "  —  Los  Angeles  To-day  —  Prospects  for  Immigra- 
tion —  Poultry  and  Cattle  —  Five  Sources  of  Water  for  Irrigation  — 
Windmills,  and  Tunnels  under  Kiver-Beds 15 


III.  THE  GREAT  AMERICAN  PARADISE. 

Value  of  Reservoirs  —  Winter  in  Southern  California  —  Flowers  and 
Sunshine  —  Where  Rain  means  "Better  Weather" — Dry  Air  and 
Sea-Breezes  —  Fogs  and  Frost  —  California  for  Invalids  as  compared 
with  Italy,  Spain,  and  Africa — Rural  Cities  of  the  Future — The 
Pacific  Andalusia — Some  Disadvantages  —  Gophers,  Dust-Storms, 
Drought  —  Enemies  of  the  Orange  and  Vine 25 


IV.  THE  HOME  OF  THE  ORANGE. 

The  German  Colony  at  Anaheim  —  Rahbit-Hunting  in  the  Cactus  Fields 
—  Cows  and  Oranges  —  The  Best  California  Orange  —  Riverside  and 
its  Model  Orchards  —  Orange-Picking  —  A  Wonderful  Avenue  — 
Local  Flavor  in  Oranges  —  An  English  Colony  —  How  Prohibition 

prohibits  —  Scenes  between  Riverside  and  San  Diego 36 

xi 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

V.  OVER  THE  MEXICAN  BORDER. 

PAGE 

San  Diego  and  Coronado  Beach  —  An  Ideal  Climate  —  An  Artificial 
Lake  —  How  Towns  are  raised  —  The  National  Boundary —  Don- 
keys versus  Railroads  —  More  Saloons  than  Houses  —  Limes  versus 
Lemons 4<J 

VI.  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

From  San  Diego  to  Los  Angeles  —  Along  the  Coast  —  A  Romantic  Spot 

—  Lost  in  a  Mustard  Field  —  San  Pedro  —  Floating  Highlands  —  Sun 
and  Ocean  Baths  in  Winter  —  Avalon  Village  —  The  Luxury  of  Exist- 
ence—  Flowers,  Humming-Birds,  and  Poison  Ivy  —  Rattlesnakes  — 
Hunting  Wild  Goats  —  Indian   Relics  —  Abalone  Shells  and  their 
Hunters  —  Sport  for  Fishermen  —  A  Submarine  Garden  —  The  Seals 

at  Home 55 

VII.  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

A  Dam  under  a  River-Bed  —  Beans  and  Culture  —  An  Esthetic  Town 

—  Beautiful  Gardens —  Spanishtown  and  Chinatown  —  Mojave  Desert 

—  On  the  Way  to  the  Yosemite  —  A  Fine  Stage  Ride  —  Floral  Won- 
ders—  The  Sierra  Snow-Plant  and  Mariposa  Lilies  —  Resemblance 
to  Oregon  Scenery  —  Discovery  of  the  Valley  —  The  Yosemite  and 
Bridal  Veil  Falls  —  Rainbow  Spray  —  El  Capitan  and  Mirror  Lake 

—  Origin  of  the  Valley — Yosemite  as  a  Lake  —  Glacier  Point  and 
Other  Excursions  —  The  Big  Trees  in  the  Mariposa  Grove 75 

VIII.  SAN  FRANCISCO  AND  CHINATOWN. 

Mountainous  Character  of  the  Pacific  Coast — The  Hills  of  San  Fran- 
cisco—  Cable-Car  Tobogganing — The  Golden  Gate  and  Cliff  House 

—  Scenes  in  the  Chinese  Quarter  —  John's  Table  Delicacies  —  Lunch 
in  a  Chinese  Restaurant  —  An  Honest  Bookseller  —  Chinese  Women 

—  Opium  Dens  —  Behind  the  Scenes  in  a  Chinese  Theatre  —  The 
Asiatic  Trade  —  California  Hotels,  Restaurants,  and  Wines  —  Berke- 
ley and  the  University — The  Climate  of  San  Francisco 108 

IX.  LAKE  TAHOE  AND  VIRGINIA  CITY. 

Climatic  Paradoxes  in  San  Francisco  —  A  Long  Ferry-Boat  —  Snow- 
Sheds  and  Donner  Lake  —  Truckee  River  —  Logging  and  Fishing  — 
Tahoe  City  — Round  Trip  on  a  Boat  — A  Lake  amidst  Snow  Moun- 
tains—  A  Cinnamon  Bear  —  Butterflies,  Snow,  and  a  Blue  Sky  — 
Large  Trout,  and  how  to  catch  them  —  Sunsets  reflected  in  the  Lake 

—  Other  Color  Phenomena  —  The  Flume  to  Carson  Valley  —  A  Moun- 
tain Railway  —  Desolate  Nevada  Mountains  —  Mining  under  a  City 

—  Gold  Hill..,  126 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

X.  MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

PAGE 

The  Oregon  and  California  Railroad  —  California's  Grandest  Mountain 

—  Isolated  Peaks  of  the  Cascade  Range  —  Volcanic   Remnants  — 
Sisson's  — Indians  at  Home  — Sources  of  the  Sacramento  —  Effects 
of  Rain  —  Oregon's  Numerous  Rivers  —  Fish  and  Crawfish  —  South- 
ern Oregon  —  A  Mysterious  Mountain  Lake  —  The  Oregon  National 
Park— The  Willamette  Valley  —  Oregon  Wheat  and  Fruit 149 

XL  PORTLAND  AND  ITS  SEA-BEACHES. 

•A  Picturesque  Situation  —  Five  Snow-Peaks  in  Sight  —  Portland  ver- 
sus Los  Angeles—  Clearings  —  Chinese  Anecdotes  —  Propitiating  the 
Gods  —  Appreciation  of  Female  Beauty — Summer  Resorts  —  Y  aquina 
Bay  and  Long  Beach  —  Bathing  in  the  North  Pacific  —  Catching 
Crabs  at  Low  Tide  — A  Sad  Accident  — Clatsop  Beach  and  Tilla- 
mook  Head  — An  Exposed  Lighthouse  —  In  the  Virgin  Forest— 
Oregon  Mosses,  Ferns,  and  Trees  —  Flowers  and  Berries 162 

XII.    UP  AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA  RlVER. 

In  Ungrateful  Republic  — The  Columbia  compared  with  Other  Rivers 

—  Snow-Peaks  —  Salmon-Canneries  —  Astoria  and  the  Mouth  of  the 
River  —  Cape  Horn  and  Rooster  Rock  —  Water-Falls  —  The  Cascade 

—  Salmon- Wheels — In  the  Highlands  —  The  Last  of  the  Mohicans 

—  Low  and  High  Water  —  The  Scenery  and  the  Railroad  —  The 
"Place  of  the  Winds "  —  "  Swift  Water"  — A  River  turned  on 
Edge 182 

XIII.  OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON  SNOW  PEAKS. 

iTrom  Portland  to  Tacoma  —  Views  of  and  from  Mt.  Hood  —  Ameri- 
can Scenery  —  Advantages  of  Isolation  —  Ascent  of  Mt.  St.  Helens  — 
Masculine  and  Feminine  Peaks  —  Tacoma  and  the  Jungfrau  —  Ameri- 
can Names  for  American  Mountains  —  Indian  Names  —  A  Hop  Valley 

—  Cascade  Division  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  —  Mt.  Tacoma 

—  Its  Fourteen  Glaciers  and  Five  Rivers 203 

• 

XIV.  THB  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

A  Strange  Fact — History  of  Tacoma  —  Advantages  of  its  Situation  — 
Navigation  —  Forests  and  Saw-Mills  —  Splendors  and  Disadvantages 
of  Forest  Fires  —  Coal-Fields  of  Washington  —  Scenic  Features  of 
Puget  Sound  —  Olympia  —  Seattle  since  the  Fire  —  The  Olympic 
Mountains  —  Port  Townsend • 217 


CONTENTS. 
XV.  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

PAGE 

A  Great  Salt-Water  River  —  The  Genuine  American  Switzerland  — 
Highest  Snow-Mountain  in  the  World  —  The  Excursion  Season  — 
Islands  and  Forests  —  Indian  Traits  —  Alaskan  Villages  —  Glacier 
Bay  —  An  Iceberg  Factory 231 

XVI.  ACROSS  THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

Advantages  of  an  Autumnal  Trip  —  English  Aspect  of  Victoria  —  Van- 
couver a  "Boom  Town"  —  The  Frazer  River  and  Canon  —  Eagle 
Pass  —  Reappearance  of  the  Columbia  River  —  Mountain-Side  Forests 

—  Comparison   with  Switzerland — Construction  of  Snow-Sheds  — 
Banff  and  the  National  Park  — The  Bow  River  — Devil's  Head  Lake 

—  Sulphur  Mountain  —  Winnipeg  and  Lake  Superior 248 

XVII.  THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

An  Independent  Journey  on  Horseback  —  Geysers  and  Paint-Pots  — 
Waiting  for  an  Eruption  —  Yellowstone  Canon  and  Falls  —  The  Lake 
and  its  Trout  —  A  Tent  Hotel — Mysterious  Sounds 279 

XVIII.  THE  GRAND  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 

From  Los  Angeles  to  Peach  Spring  —  Desert  Wind  —  An  Arizona  Vil- 
lage—Indians— Descensus  Averno  — Extraordinary  Mountain  Ar- 
chitecture —  Silence  and  Desolation  —  A  Bewitched  Creek  — Up  the 
Diamond  Canon  — The  Grand  Canon  and  the  River  — New  Mexico 
and  Kansas • 294 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

MT.  HOOD Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 
OSTRICH  FARM—  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 12 

FRUIT  FARM  IN  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 22 

ORANGE  GROVE  —  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 42 

NORTH  DOME  —  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 96 

BIG  TREE  —  YOSEMITE  VALLEY 104 

SEAL  ROCKS  —  SAN  FRANCISCO 110 

LAKE  TAHOE 132 

MT.  SHASTA 152 

CRATER  LAKE 158 

CASTLE  ROCK— COLUMBIA  RIVER 196 

GREAT  DALLES  —  COLUMBIA  RIVER 202 

SITKA 244 

FRASER  CANON 254 

THE  SELKIRK  GLACIER 262 

CANADIAN  PACIFIC  HOTEL  AT  BANFF 268 

DEVIL'S  HEAD  LAKE 272 

MINERVA  TERRACE  —  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 282 

FALLS  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE 292 

THE  GRAND  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO 296 


I. 

LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY. 

ACROSS     THE     CONTINENT A     STOKM     IN     THE    DESERT A 

CONTEMPTUOUS    CITY  PROGRESS    AND    PROgPECTS THE 

LAND    BOOM CLIMATE    AND    CROPS OSTRICH-FARMING 

A    VINEYARD    TERROR THE    NATIVE    WINES QUAIL- 
HUNTING. 

TWENTY-THREE  years  ago,  when  the  first  transconti- 
nental railway  was  commenced,  the  possibility  of  not 
only  its  success,  but  of  its  very  construction,  was  almost 
universally  doubted,  and  the  San  Francisco  bankers  who 
advanced  money  for  the  enterprise  had  to  do  so  secretly, 
in  order  not  to  create  a  panic  among  their  depositors. 
To-day  there  are  five  transcontinental  lines,  or  six,  if  we 
count  the  Oregon  Short  Line  separately,  and  the  tourist 
or  invalid  can  pay  his  money  and  take  his  choice,  ac- 
cording to  the  season,  —  the  Canadian  Pacific,  Northern 
Pacific,  or  Union  Pacific  in  summer;  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific  or  Southern  Pacific  in  winter.  The  last-named 
is  less  interesting  scenically  than  some  of  the  Northern 
routes,  but  to  invalids  leaving  the  East  in  winter  it  pre- 
sents the  advantage  of  plunging  at  once  in  mediae  res, 
so  far  as  semi-tropical  climate  is  concerned. 

Of  the  southern  United  States,  this  side  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, one  gets  a  rather  unfavorable  impression  from  the 
railway  window,  as  the  greater  part  of  the  distance  from 

l 


2  LOS    ANGELES    COUNTY. 

Washington  to  New  Orleans,  and  some  hundred  miles 
beyond,  seems  little  else  than  one  boundless  swamp, 
with  moss-covered  trees,  an  occasional  low  mountain 
range,  corn  and  cotton  fields,  and  beggarly  huts,  as  the 
only  scenic  features.  Montgomery  seems  a  sleepy  coun- 
try village ;  and  although  New  Orleans  has  sights  worth 
seeing,  it  requires  courage  and  a  taste  for  roughing  it 
in  order  to  get  at  them ;  for  the  streets  (naturally  in- 
clined to  be  muddy,  because  the  city  lies  below  the  level 
of  the  Mississippi)  are  so  horribly  paved  that  even  a 
New  Yorker  must  lift  up  his  hands  and  thank  Heaven 
that  he  does  not  live  in  such  a  city.  Without  any  exag- 
geration, a  Swiss  stage-road  in  the  midst  of  the  moun- 
tains is  not  so  rough  and  jolting  an  affair  as  the  street- 
car tracks  in  New  Orleans  ;  and  what  the  roads  are 
beyond  the  paved  streets  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact 
that  in  January  I  found  it  absolutely  impossible  to  reach 
the  City  Park  (where  the  Exposition  was  held  some 
years  ago)  on  foot,  from  the  terminus  of  the  street  cars. 
Some  of  the  gardens  on  the  way  were  ornamented  with 
orange-trees  laden  with  ripe  fruit,  but  both  trees  and 
fruit  presented  a  sad  contrast  to  the  luxuriance  I  beheld 
in  Los  Angeles  three  days  later ;  and  equally  great  was 
the  contrast  between  the  moist,  warm,  enervating  atmos- 
phere of  the  Louisiana  marshes,  and  the  dry,  cool,  moun- 
tain and  ocean  breezes  of  Southern  California. 

If  you  leave  New  Orleans,  say,  on  Wednesday  noon, 
you  will  be  at  Los  Angeles  on  Saturday  evening  before 
ten.  A  good  supply  of  reading-matter  is  desirable,  as 
there  is  little  to  see  for  a  day  or  two,  except  cactus 
bushes,  a  few  painted  Indians,  and  bleak  mountains, 
some  of  them  across  the  Mexican  border.  At  El  Paso, 
which  calls  itself  "the  Paris  of  the  Southwest,"  and 


LOS    ANGELES    COUNTY.  3 

claims  twelve  thousand  inhabitants,  the  train  stops  long 
enough  to  afford  a  chance  to  drive  across  the  river  into 
Mexican  soil.  The  El  Paso  papers  try  hard  to  induce 
the  passengers  in  quest  of  health  to  stay  there,  and  have 
a  very  poor  opinion  of  California.  The  Herald  which  I 
bought,  editorially  described  the  "  recent  terrific  rain- 
s.torms  "  in  that  State,  and  found  it  difficult  to  decide 
which  was  a  worse  place  for  invalids,  "  Holland  with 
her  damp  marshes,  or  the  Golden  State."  The  editor 
probably  mixed  up  that  State  with  Arizona;  for  on 
arriving  in  California  we  discovered  there  had  not  been 
a  drop  of  rain  for  several  weeks,  while  in  Arizona  we 
found  the  deserts,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  one 
vast  plain  of  shining,  semi-liquid  mud,  interspersed  with 
large  temporary  lakes.  The  rain  poured  down  in  blind- 
ing torrents  and  with  true  tropical  violence,  forming 
channels  several  feet  deep  across  the  desert,  and  whirl- 
ing aside  thirty-feet  iron  rails  like  straws. 

The  spectacle  of  this  rain-storm  in  the  desert  was  so 
weird  and  sublime  that  we  gladly  in  return  accepted  the 
fate  of  reaching  Los  Angeles  twelve  hours  behind  time ; 
for  the  train,  owing  to  the  numerous  washouts  and  soft 
places,  could  only  creep  along,  and  beyond  Tucson  we 
had  to  wait  five  hours  for  daylight,  as  the  engineer  did 
not  dare  to  proceed  farther  in  the  dark.  Such  storms 
and  washouts  are  obviously  frequent  in  this  region,  for 
ties  and  rails  are  scattered  all  along  the  road  for  emer- 
gencies. Nature,  provoked  by  the  "  soft  thing  "  which 
the  Southern  Pacific  had  in  building  this  level  road, 
seems  to  have  taken  this  means  of  getting  square  with 
it.  At  Colton,  California,  the  scenery  becomes  snow- 
mountainous  and  interesting,  and  remains  so  as  far  as 
Los  Angeles. 


4  LOS    ANGELES    COUNTY. 

Doling  my  first  visit  to  Southern  California,  in  1887, 
I  was  amused  to  notice  the  vast  contempt  with  which 
the  fifty  thousand  inhabitants  of  the  city  of  Los  Angeles 
looked  down  on  the  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
benighted  denizens  of  a  certain  northern  village  known 
as  San  Francisco,  and  on  other  places  that  have  the 
effrontery  to  grow  rapidly,  and  to  claim  special  advan- 
tages of  climate,  situation,  and  commerce.  The  Los 
Angeles  Herald  informed  its  admiring  readers  that  — 

"Pasadena  and  Los  Angeles  will  be  one  city  in  a 
brief  period,  and  form  a  continuous  municipality  from 
the  Sierra  Madre  to  the  sea  —  an  extent  of  thirty  miles 
in  length  by  at  least  six  in  width,  with  five  hundred 
thousand  people  contained  therein,  and  will  be  the  cap- 
ital of  the  richest  State  in  the  Union.  The  claim  of 
New  York  as  the  Empire  State  is  already  in  dispute, 
but  the  dispute  will  soon  be  settled  by  the  pre-eminence 
of  South  California." 

It  must  be  admitted  that  much  had  happened  to  jus- 
tify this  Los  Angelic  grandiloquence.  Seventeen  years 
ago  the  City  of  Angeles  had  only  ten  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, no  street  cars,  and  only  one  railway.  To-day  it 
has  at  least  sixty  thousand  inhabitants,  electric  street 
cars,  and  more  than  half-a-dozen  railways,  with  about 
seventy-five  daily  trains.  Orange-trees  have  increased 
in  the  county  from  twenty-five  thousand  to  a  million  or 
more ;  grape-vines  from  three  millions  to  twenty  mil- 
lions ;  and  other  agricultural  products  in  proportion. 

Its  very  disadvantages  have  proved  advantages  to 
Los  Angeles.  For  instance,  the  fact  that  coal,  like 
wood,  is  expensive,  made  the  city  the  first  in  the 
country  to  adopt  a  general  system  of  electric  street-light- 
ing. It  has  seventeen  masts  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 


LOS    ANGELES    COUNTY.  5 

high,  fourteen  masts  sixty  feet  high,  and  hundreds  of 
private  lights.  The  electric  railroad  is  also  being  rap- 
idly extended.  The  cars  run  at  the  rate  of  ten  or 
twelve  miles  an  hour,  which  can  be  increased  to  twenty 
outside  the  city  limits.  The  road's  capacity  is  said  to 
be  four  times  that  of  a  horse  road,  and  its  cost  only  one- 
half,  while  there  is  no  torturing  of  poor  horses  in  the 
hot  noonday  sun.  A  ride  or  a  walk  along  the  streets  of 
Los  Angeles  conveys  the  impression  that  the  city  is  quite 
as  large  and  as  "  metropolitan  "  as  it  claims  to  be  ;  the 
natural  bustle  and  activity  being  increased  by  the  winter 
visitors  from  the  East. 

In  every  country  the  smaller  cities  are  apt  to  take 
after  the  metropolis.  Thus,  Rouen  constantly  suggests 
Paris ;  Linz,  Vienna ;  the  English  cities,  London,  etc. 
Similarly,  Los  Angeles  suggests  San  Francisco  in  many 
details,  —  the  appearance  of  the  stores,  hotels,  Chinese 
shops,  and  the  gardens,  although  the  gardens  have  a 
more  decided  semi-tropical  aspect,  and  there  is  a  general 
appearance  of  more  open-airness,  if  the  word  be  permis- 
sible. The  city  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  high  moun- 
tains and  buried  among  groves  and  gardens.  Orange, 
lemon,  "  pepper,"  and  fig  trees  adorn  the  gardens  every- 
where, side  by  side  with  many  luxuriant  shrubs  and 
flowers,  dwarfed  apologies  for  which  are  often  seen  in 
Eastern  gardens.  In  size  and  brilliancy  of  color  these 
California  flowers  are  incomparable,  but  the  same  causes 
which  tend  to  give  quinces,  for  instance,  a  less  pro- 
nounced flavor  than  they  have  in  the  East,  appear  to 
impair  the  fragrance  of  some  flowers.  This  fact  has 
often  been  commented  on,  but  I  believe  that  too  much 
emphasis  has  been  placed  on  it.  Repeated  experiment 
has  convinced  me  that  the  verbena  and  heliotrope,  and 


6  LOS    ANGELES    COUNTY. 

perhaps  the  geranium,  have  a  less  delicious  fragrance  in 
California  than  in  New  York,  at  least  in  October ;  but 
the  same  is  not  true  of  roses  and  pinks  and  lilies ;  and 
the  countless  varieties  of  wild  flowers  that  adorn  the 
hill-sides  in  spring  have  a  most  intoxicating  fragrance, 
wherewith  they  allure  so  many  bees  that  honey  can  be 
sold  at  four  cents  a  pound. 

The  present  ambition  of  the  Los  Angeles  people  is  to 
surpass  all  the  rest  of  the  world  in  as  many  things  as 
possible.  In  one  thing  certainly  they  were  pre-emi- 
nent, a  few  years  ago, — in  the  number  of  real-estate 
offices  that  decorated  their  town.  Neither  San  Fran- 
cisco nor  any  mining  town  ever  had  so  many  saloons 
to  the  number  of  inhabitants  as  Los  Angeles  had 
of  these  land  offices;  and  the  day  after  my  arrival 
I  heard  a  mother  scolding  her  baby  for  putting  a  hand- 
ful of  dirt  in  its  mouth  —  doubtless  because  she  thought 
real  estate  was  too  valuable  to  be  thus  wasted  in  luxu- 
rious living.  Almost  every  landowner,  whether  he  had 
a  sign  over  his  door  or  not,  was  willing  to  part  with 
some  or  all  of  his  property  for  a  consideration  —  not  a 
slight  one,  by  any  means ;  and  the  whole  county  was 
affected  with  this  epidemic,  there  being  places  of  only 
a  few  thousand  inhabitants  where  corner  lots  were  sold 
almost  at  New  York  City  prices, 

One  day,  driving  along  a  country  .road  about  twenty 
miles  from  Los  Angeles,  I  noticed  half-a-dozen  well- 
dressed  men  resting  under  a  tree.  My  companion  in- 
formed me  they  were  doubtless  a  syndicate  looking 
about  for  a  place  to  locate  a  new  town.  At  Fullerton, 
a  few  miles  from  Anaheim,  I  saw  one  of  these  new 
towns.  It  consisted  of  the  framework  of  a  large  hotel 
and  of  a  few  hundred  yards  of  elegant  cement  sidewalk, 


LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY.  7 

not  in  front  of  the  hotel,  but  in  another  part  of  the 
"  town."  Elsewhere  towns  get  pretty  large  before  any 
one  begins  to  think  of  a  sidewalk,  even  of  the  most 
primitive  kind ;  but  the  residents  in  Los  Angeles  County 
of  course  would  not  be  satisfied  with  a  sidewalk  in  any 
way  inferior  to  that  in  front  of  Mr.  Vanderbilt's  house 
in  Fifth  Avenue.  I  may  add  that  since  then  Fullerton 
has  grown  up  into  quite  a  little  town. 

Having  built  his  sidewalk  and  his  large  hotel  (with 
real-estate  office)  in  place  of  the  saloon  which  usually  is 
the  pioneer  building  in  Western  towns,  the  Southern 
Californian  begins  to  cast  about  for  a  supply  of  water ; 
not  so  much  for  domestic  use  —  since  wine  is  almost  as 
cheap  as  water  —  as  for  the  irrigation  of  his  garden  and 
fields.  If  a  river  or  brook  is  near  by,  a  water  company 
is  formed,  ditches  are  dug,  and  each  shareholder,  after 
paying  his  dues,  may  have  his  water  "  on  tap  "  whenever 
he  wants  it.  In  the  absence  of  a  river,  wells  are  made 
to  supply  the  water.  Sometimes  these  wells  are  bored 
horizontally  into  the  mountain  side,  thus  creating  an 
artificial  spring ;  but,  as  a  rule,  the  wells  are  vertical, 
from  eighty  to  five  hundred  feet  deep,  or  even  more, 
although  at  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  feet  the  water 
is  generally  obtained  in  abundance.  A  windmill  is  then 
erected  over  the  well,  which  pumps  the  water  into  a 
large,  high  tank,  whence  it  is  easily  conveyed  to  the 
garden  or  field  by  hose.  There  is  no  lack  of  wind  to 
drive  these  mills ;  for  the  charm  of  Southern  Califor- 
nia's climate  lies  in  this,  that  although  the  sky  is  com- 
monly cloudless,  and  the  sun  warm,  winter  and  summer, 
there  is  almost  always  a  brisk  breeze  to  temper  the 
solar  rays,  and  deprive  them  of  their  sting. 

This  is  true  especially  of  Los  Angeles  County,  which 


£  Los  ANGELES  COUNTY. 

is  situated  between  the  deep  sea  and  an  imposing  circu- 
lar range  of  mountains,  that  send  their  breezes  down 
over  the  valley  as  soon  as  the  ocean  breezes  cease ;  and 
although  at  some  seasons  both  these  air-currents,  near 
their  source,  would  be  unpleasantly  cold  for  invalids, 
they  are  almost  always  mellowed  and  warmed  by  the 
sun's  rays  before  they  reach  the  centre  of  the  valley. 
The  morning  —  till  about  two  o'clock  —  is  the  warmest 
part  of  the  day ;  but  in  the  autumn  the  morning  heat 
is  tempered  by  a  daily  fog,  which  remains  till  about  ten 
o'clock.  It  is  not  a  depressing  fog,  and  is  rather  en- 
joyed by  the  natives,  as  a  temporary  change  from  the 
everlasting  sunshine.  In  fact,  sunny  monotony  is  the 
gravest  charge  that  can  be  brought  against  the  climate 
of  Southern  California.  In  the  autumn  and  spring  a 
few  rainy  days  afford  refreshing  variety;  but  summer 
and  winter  are  alike  in  their  cloudless  skies,  warm  sun- 
shine, and  alternating  mountain  and  ocean  breezes.  As 
a  physician  at  Anaheim  remarked  tO'ine,  the  seasons  do 
not  differ  in  character,  but  only  in  flavor,  like  the  dif- 
ferences between  severals  kinds  of  apples.  He  also 
informed  me  that,  although  the  temperature  sometimes 
rises  above  a  hundred  in  the  shade,  he  has  never 
seen  a  case  of  sunstroke  —  thanks  to  the  dryness  of 
the  air  and  the  almost  incessant  breezes.  Yet,  like 
all  southern  climates,  it  fosters  indolence,  mental  and 
physical ;  and  he  would  not  recommend  it,  therefore, 
to  young  persons,  except  for  money-making  purposes. 
But  for  invalids  and  for  elderly  persons,  it  is  the 
best  place  in  the  world.  The  somnolence  brooding 
in  the  air  (except  in  Switzerland  I  have  never  slept  so 
soundly  in  my  life  as  here)  would  cure  the  worst  case 
1  of  Wall  Street  insomnia ;  and  the  incessant  sunshine 


LOS  ANGELES  COtTNTY. 

and  constant  life  in  the  open  air  can  hardly  fail  to  add 
ten  years  or  more  to  the  life  of  old  men  or  women 
who  desert  their  over-heated  and  ill-ventilated  Eastern 
homes  for  the  open  air  and  winter  sunshine  of  Los 
Angeles  County. 

The  general  irrigation  now  resorted  to,  and  the 
numerous  green  oases  which  have  in  consequence 
sprung  up  amid  the  deserts  of  prickly  cactus,  have 
already  exerted  some  influence  on  the  climate,  and  there 
is  reason  to  believe  that  rain  will  be  more  abundant 
in  the  future  than  it  has  been  in  the  past.  A  potent  "" 
factor  in  producing  this  change  will  be  the  groves  of 
trees  that  are  being  planted  everywhere.  There  are 
some  poplars  and  locusts  and  other  trees  that  appear 
to  flourish  tolerably  well,  but  the  two  species  that  most 
triumphantly  defy  sunshine,  dust,  and  drought  are  the 
red-pepper-tree  and  the  Australian  eucalyptus,  both  of  , 
them  beautiful  to  behold.  The  red-pepper-tree,  with 
its  gracefully  drooping  branches,  resembles  a  weeping 
willow,  but  its  growth  is  more  luxuriant,  its  dimensions 
larger,  and  it  is  adorned  with  bunches  of  beautiful 
small  red  berries.  The  leaves,  when  bruised,  have  a 
strongly  pungent  cayenne  odor,  whence  the  name  of 
the  tree.  The  leaves  and  fruit  of  the  eucalyptus  have 
a  still  more  objectionable  odor  when  crushed  (very 
much  like  assafoetida),  but  the  tree  has  a  most  stately 
appearance,  and  its  marvellously  rapid  growth  —  a  seed 
becoming  a  large  tree  in  a  few  years  —  causes  it  to  be 
raised  on  a  large  scale  for  fuel  and  for  shady  avenues. 

But  although  Los  Angeles  County  can  raise  the 
Australian  eucalyptus  and  the  pepper-tree,  there  is  a 
point  at  which  the  climate  draws  the  line  further  south. 
Thus,  the  banana  and  the  pineapple,  although  they  can 


10  LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY. 

be  raised  here,  do  not  usually  thrive  well,  and  the  same 
is  true  of  the  almond.  Yet  the  Los  Angelenos  do  not 
despair  on  that  account,  as  they  have  a  superabundance 
of  other  fruits  to  fall  back  on.  Of  the  vast  and  fruitful 
orange  and  lemon  orchards  of  this  region  every  one  has 
read.  Figs  grow  abundantly  and  are  in  good  demand, 
especially  those  of  the  Smyrna  variety,  which  are  now 
displacing  the  others.  The  demand  for  California  olive 

011  is  greater  than  the  supply,  and  it  is  equal  in  quality 
to  the  best  Italian  oil.     English   walnut-trees   yield  a 
profitable  crop.     Peaches  are  so  abundant  that  they  are 
fed  to  the  cows,  and  some  varieties  (but  not  all)  are 
equal  in  flavor  to  the  New  Jersey  and  Delaware  crop. 
Ears  of  corn  a  foot  long,  with  twenty  rows  to  the  ear, 
can  be  seen  in  the  market,  side  by  side  with  gigantic 
twenty-horse-power  onions,  and  potatoes  weighing  from 
two   to   five    pounds.     Sugar-beets   are   on   exhibition, 
weighing  fifty  pounds,  and  pumpkins  of  one  hundred 
and   fifty   to   one   hundred  and    seventy-five    pounds. 
Pumpkins,  melons,  tomatoes,  and  other  creepers  grow 
wild,  without  any  care,  and  may  even  become  a  weedy 
nuisance.     If  a  Chinaman  eats  a  watermelon  under  a 
tree  along  the  road,  the  chances  are  that  a  crop  of  wild 
melons  will  be  found  in  that  neighborhood  the  following 
season ;  and  on  one  farm  I  saw  a  volunteer  tomato  plant 
which  the  owner  said  he  had  ploughed  down  twice,  but 
when  I  saw  it,  it  measured  at  least  twelve  feet  square, 
and  had  thousands  of  small  red  fruit  on  it  of  the  kind 
which  is  only  used  for  preserves,  although,  like  the  little 
yellow  ones,  it  is  of  a  much  more  delicate  flavor  than 
the  large  tomatoes,  which  alone,  for  some  inscrutable 
reason,  are  ever  seen  on  our  tables. 

This  list  is  very  far  from  complete  and  is  being  con- 


LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY.  11 

stantly  extended;  for  California  is  still  largely  in  an 
experimental  stage  of  development.  The  experiment 
with  ostrich-farming  near  Anaheim  has  resulted  success- 
fully, and  other  farms  have  been  started  near  Los  Ange- 
les. I  visited  the  original  farm  near  Anaheim.  The 
keeper,  an  Englishman  imported  from  Africa,  showed 
me  a  fine  lot  of  healthy  birds  and  some  beautiful  speci- 
mens of  feathers,  naming  prices  which,  if  they  were 
advertised  by  a  New  York  house,  would  create  a  riot 
among  "  bargain  "-seeking  women ;  for  it  is  to  be  hoped 
that  women,  having  abandoned  the  vulgar  fashion  of 
wearing  stuffed  bird-corpses  on  their  hats,  will  return  to 
their  old  love,  the  delicate  plumes  of  the  ostrich,  the 
wearing  of  which  involves  no  cruel  massacre  of  inno- 
cents. And  California  has  another  kind  of  plume  to 
which  the  attention  of  women  should  be  directed,  the 
product  of  what  might  be  called  the  vegetable  ostrich, 
—  pampas  grass.  Nothing  more  exquisite  for  a  vase  or 
for  a  (fan-shaped)  wall  ornament  could  be  imagined 
than  these  bushy  white  (or  colored)  plumes,  which  in 
Los  Angeles  County  attain  the  height  of  thirty-six 
inches,  not  including  the  stem.  Formerly,  when  these 
plumes  were  imported  from  South  America,  florists 
charged  a  dollar  or  even  a  dollar  and  a  half  apiece  for 
them ;  now  the  retail  price  is  twenty-five  cents,  and  the 
wholesale  price  three  or  four  cents.  Vast  quantities  are 
being  exported  to  Europe,  and  Southern  California  is 
able  to  supply  the  demand  of  several  continents,  as  the 
pampas  grass,  like  most  plants,  grows  there  like  a  weed. 
A  dark  cloud  has,  however,  lately  risen,  and  is  for  the 
moment  casting  an  ominous  shadow  over  the  cheerful 
prospects  of  California.  All  the  products  so  far  men- 
tioned are,  of  course,  subordinate  in  importance  to  the 


12  LOS  ANGELES   COUNTY. 

grape  crop ;  and  the  California  grape-vine  has  been  for 
several  years  threatened  by  an  enemy  more  dangerous, 
because  more  obscure,  than  the  phylloxera.  A  few  years 
ago  some  of  the  grape-vines  in  Los  Angeles  County  sud- 
denly began  to  die  out.  Among  these  were  some  of  the 
oldest  vineyards,  eighty  years  old  or  more.  Indeed,  the 
old  Mission  grape  was  the  first  to  be  attacked.  Then 
followed  other  varieties,  always  in  the  same  order  in  each 
vineyard.  The  disease  begins  at  the  tip  of  the  vines  and 
slowly  spreads  downwards,  the  roots  being  affected  last. 
The  second  season  the  crop  is  a  comparative  failure,  and 
the  third  the  vineyard  is  a  graveyard.  One  lady  told 
me  she  had  dug  up  and  used  for  fuel  as  many  as  eighty 
thousand  of  her  vines  within  a  few  years.  The  disease  is 
said  to  be  not  phylloxera  nor  mildew ;  nor  have  the  chem- 
ical experts  who  have  examined  the  vines  been  able  to 
throw  any  light  on  the  matter,  except  by  attributing  the 
decay  to  a  kind  of  cellular  degeneration.  Various  theo- 
ries are  being  discussed,  and  the  owners  of  the  vineyards 
meanwhile  console  themselves  with  the  statement  that  a 
similar  mysterious  disease  affected  the  grapes  of  Sicily 
and  Madeira  at  one  time,  and  disappeared  after  a  few 
years,  allowing  the  young  vines  to  grow  as  before. 
What  causes  them  to  look  with  comparative  indiffer- 
ence on  this  temporary  (as  they  hope)  interruption  of 
business  is  the  fact  that  there  has  been  an  over-produc- 
tion of  grapes,  in  consequence  of  which  the  price  of 
wine  has  fallen  to  unprofitable  figures.  An  interruption 
of  a  few  years  in  this  excessive  production  would  raise 
the  prices,  and  thus  pay  for  the  losses  now  sustained. 

In  the  meantime  the  wine-growers  would  do  well  to 
ponder  the  fact  that  quality  is  of  much  more  value,  finan- 
cially and  gastronomically,  than  quantity.  Labor  is 


LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY.  13 

scarce  in  harvest-time,  and,  to  save  trouble,  too  many  of 
the  small  growers  neglect  to  pick  out  the  green  and 
sour  grapes,  which  therefore  vitiate  the  juice  of  the 
whole  bunch ;  or  else  they  intrust  the  cleaning  of  their 
old  barrels  to  ignorant  Chinamen  (the  Indians  have 
all  disappeared),  with  equally  disastrous  results.  Too 
many  Eastern  people  have  contracted  absurd  prejudices 
against  California  wines,  because  chance  threw  some  of 
this  sour  wine  into  their  cellars.  But  it  may  be  safely 
stated  that  the  average  California  claret  and  white  wine 
and  port  are  superior  to  the  wine  that  may  be  bought 
for  the  same  money  in  France  and  Germany  and  else- 
where. The  labels  of  famous  French  wines  and  Cog- 
nacs are  for  sale  openly  in  the  show-cases  of  country 
stores  in  Los  Angeles  County!  These  honest  folks 
are  practically  compelled  to  use  this  stratagem.  They 
would  much  prefer  to  sell  their  best  wines  under  Cali- 
fornia labels,  in  order  to  build  up  their  reputation.  And 
if  California  wine-growers  used  the  same  caution  as 
those  of  Europe,  this  subterfuge  would  no  longer  be 
necessary.  I  have  tasted  old  Zinfandel  equal  to  the 
best  French  chateau  wines,  because  made  with  the  same 
care,  and  it  fetched  almost  as  high  a  price  in  San  Fran- 
cisco as  foreign  wines. 

Whatever  may  be  the  outcome  of  the  present  vine- 
yard epidemic,  Southern  California  will  have  plenty  of 
other  things  to  fall  back  upon.  A  few  years  ago  it 
looked  as  if  all  the  crops  were  to  be  neglected,  compar- 
atively, and  a  specialty  made  of  building  hotels  for 
invalids  and  tourists.  Among  the  special  attractions  for 
tourists  is  quail-hunting  in  the  foothills.  The  physician 
already  referred  to  kindly  took  me  out  on  an  afternoon 
hunt.  We  drove  in  a  tough  two-horse  buggy,  up  and 


14  LOS   ANGELES   COUNTY. 

down  hill  and  along  the  dry  bed  of  a  brook,  carefully 
dodging  the  bristling  cactus  bushes,  which  are  apt  to 
make  a  deep  impression  on  "  tenderfoot "  visitors,  less 
by  the  grotesque  manner  in  which  their  fleshy  leaves 
are  stuck  on  one  another  at  odd  angles  than  by  their 
fish-hook-like  spines.  These  prickly  leaves  are  so 
arranged  that  nothing  larger  than  a  quail  or  a  rabbit 
can  get  under  their  protecting  shadows.  The  dogs  give 
them  a  wide  berth,  and  the  quail  can  only  be  shot  on 
the  wing  if  they  are  alarmed  and  fly  from  one  group  of 
cactus  bushes  to  another.  The  result  of  an  hour's 
buggy -hunting  was  nine  quails,  three  pigeons,  and  two 
rabbits. 


II. 

SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA  IN  WINTER. 

A     COLLAPSED      "  BOOM  " LOS      ANGELES      TO-DAY PROS- 

PECTS    FOR    IMMIGRANTS POULTRY   AND    CATTLE FIVE 

SOURCES    OF    WATER    FOR    IRRIGATION WINDMILLS,  AND 

TUNNELS    UNDER    RIVER   BEDS. 


IN  1887  all  the  hotels  in  Los  Angeles  were  over- 
crowded, the  post-office  almost  unable  to  get  through 
with  its  business,  the  city  growing  like  an  asparagus 
stalk  after  an  April  shower,  and  the  demand  for  labor 
so  great  that  the  workmen  could  practically  dictate 
their  own  terms.  The  smaller  towns  and  would-be 
towns  had  also  caught  the  infection,  and  were  building 
huge  hotels,  cement  sidewalks,  and  street-car  lines ;  not 
because  it  was  supposed  that  towns  of  two  thousand 
inhabitants  needed  such  things,  but  in  order  to  be  able 
to  advertise  in  the  Eastern  papers  and  in  real-estate  cir- 
culars that  the  place  had  street-car  lines,  cement  side- 
walks, and  hotels  "  with  all  the  modern  conveniences." 
Each  town  printed  a  special  illustrated  pamphlet  in  which 
its  unique  attractions,  as  compared  with  all  rivals,  were 
set  forth,  culminating  in  the  claim  that  its  township  was 
the  "  Italy  of  America "  or  of  the  West ;  while  San 
Diego  brought  matters  to  a  climax  by  styling  itself 
"the  Italy  of  Southern  California."/ 

In  1889,  when  I  made  my  second  visit  to  Los  Angeles 

15 


16  SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA  IN  WINTER. 

County,  I  found  everywhere  evidences  that  the  boom 
had  collapsed.  The  street-car  lines  in  the  small  towns 
barely  paid  expenses,  though  it  was  regarded  as  an  act 
of  local  patriotism  to  ride  on  them;  and  the  cement 
sidewalks,  which  had  been  prolonged  far  into  the  fields, 
had  failed  to  charm  into  existence  the  rows  of  houses 
that  had  been  looked  for.  In  the  metropolis  itself,  work- 
men were  grumbling  at  insufficient  employment,  mer- 
chants clamored  that  their  rents  were  fifty  per  cent  too 
high,  many  store  windows  were  pasted  with  closing-out 
notices,  real-estate  offices  were  no  longer  as  abundant  as 
saloons,  and  the  bookstores,  more  wretchedly  supplied 
than  those  of  any  town  of  ten  thousand  inhabitants  in  the 
United  States,  were  even  selling  the  twenty-cent  paper 
novels  at  "  cut  rates."  The  newspapers  of  Northern  Cal- 
ifornia, of  Oregon,  Washington,  and  other  Western  States 
as  far  east  as  Kansas,  which  had  long  been  jealous  of  the 
prosperity  of  Southern  California,  and  desired  a  boom 
of  their  own,  crowed  loudly  over  the  "  busted  boom  " 
of  Los  Angeles,  while  the  papers  of  that  city,  no  longer 
compelled  by  the  pressure  of  real-estate  advertisements 
to  add  two  or  four  extra  pages  to  their  issues,  had  daily 
elaborate  editorials  to  disprove  the  allegations  of  their 
envious  rivals. 

An  unprejudiced  observer,  interested  only  in  the  cli- 
mate and  the  scenery,  and  not  in  the  real  estate,  of 
Southern  California,  could  not  but  admit,  from  the  signs 
just  noted,  that  these  "  envious  rivals  "  were  right  in  in- 
sisting that  the  boom  had  collapsed ;  but  the  inferences 
drawn  from  this  fact,  that  Southern  California  had  been 
overpraised,  and  that  its  road  was  to  be  down  hill  in 
the  future,  were  absurd.  Southern  California  cannot 
be  overpraised,  and,  in  my  humble  opinion,  its  pros- 


SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA  IN   WINTER.  17 

pects  are  brighter  than  those  of  any  other  portion  of  the 
United  States.  To  a  large  extent  the  late  boom  was 
nothing  but  a  huge  gambling  scheme,  an  epidemic  of 
wild  land-speculation,  which  carried  along  in  its  rush 
thousands  of  thoughtless  victims,  like  the  mad  stam- 
pede for  Oklahoma.  Southern  Californians  knew  bet- 
ter than  others  that  the  sudden  rise  in  their  land  prices 
were  artificially  stimulated  and  would  be  followed  by  a 
reaction ;  but  they  were  bound  to  make  hay  while  the 
sun  shone,  and  found  to  their  delight  that  the  sun  shone 
longer  in  California  than  elsewhere,  in  the  metaphorical 
sense  as  well  as  in  reality.  At  last  the  storm  came,  and 
swept  away  many  of  the  "  tenderfeet,"  or  late  comers, 
and  their  new  buildings,  whose  de'bris  is  now  lying 
about,  so  to  speak,  and  is  pointed  at  as  a  terrible  warn- 
ing and  lesson ;  but  the  only  lesson  it  does  teach  is  that 
people  should  avoid  real-estate  gambling.  The  frag- 
ments of  the  ruins  will  soon  be  cleared  away,  and  then 
it  will  be  found  that,  although  many  individuals  have 
suffered  during  the  storm,  the  State  as  a  whole  has 
been  benefited  by  it. 

In  many  cases  the  large,  useless  hotels  built  in  the 
small  towns  have  already  been  secured  at  a  bargain  for 
school  buildings,  and  in  the  larger  cities  many  public 
works  have  been  provided  which,  without  the  artificial 
stimulus  of  the  boom,  would  have  been  postponed  to  the 
indefinite  future  ;  as,  for  instance,  the  long  flume,  cost- 
ing almost  a  million  of  dollars,  which  now  provides  San 
Diego  and  vicinity  with  abundant  pure  water,  and  will 
do  more  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  county  than 
the  discovery  of  several  gold  mines.  Los  Angeles 
made  the  great  mistake  of  not  building  a  sewer  to  the 
sea  during  flush  times,  and  now  suffers  under  the  dis- 


18  SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA  IN  WINTER. 

advantage  of  vitiated  air,  which,  if  not  remedied,  will 
destroy  its  reputation  as  a  health  resort. 

In  other  respects,  Los  Angeles  is  already  recovering 
from  the  effects  of  the  collapse.  Fine  new  buildings 
are  again  going  up,  the  streets  are  always  animated,  and 
the  cable-car  tracks  have  been  lately  prolonged  into  the 
picturesque  hilly  region  behind  the  city,  which  affords 
the  finest  imaginable  sites  for  suburban  cottages,  with 
superb  views  of  the  mountains,  and  a  glimpse  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean,  fourteen  miles  away.  Though  founded 
in  1781,  Los  Angeles  had  less  than  five  thousand  inhab- 
itants in  1860,  and  only  thirteen  thousand  in  1880, 
while  to-day  it  has  sixty  thousand  or  more.  Thirteen 
years  ago  no  railroad  connected  it  with  other  parts  of 
the  world,  while  to-day  it  is  one  of  the  greatest  railroad 
centres  in  the  West.  And  as  it  still  remains,  what  it 
always  was,  unsurpassed  by  any  city  in  the  world  for 
climatic  and  scenic  advantages,  it  has  every  reason  to 
look  forward  to  a  prosperous  and  brilliant  future. 

Southern  California  includes  five  counties,  —  Los 
Angeles,  Santa  Barbara,  Ventura,  San  Bernardino,  and 
San  Diego,  —  embracing,  as  General  N.  A.  Miles  points 
out,  "a  territory  nearly  the  size  of  the  State  of  New 
York,  and  with  natural  resources  of  ten  times  its  value." 
This  seems  a  big  statement,  but  its  truth  can  be  realized, 
without  the  use  of  figures,  by  considering  that  these  five 
counties  are  capable  of  supplying  the  United  States  with 
all  the  figs,  raisins,  prunes,  wine,  olives  and  olive  oil, 
oranges,  lemons,  nuts,  and  canned  fruits  that  are  now 
imported  from  France,  Italy,  and  Spain ;  most  of  them, 
with  proper  care,  equal  in  quality  if  not  superior  to  the 
imported  articles.  Although  large  quantities  of  all 
these  fruits  are  already  raised,  they  are  a  mere  trifle 


SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA   IN  WINTER.  19 

compared  with  what  the  soil  is  capable  of  yielding  to  a 
larger  population.  It  has  been  proved  over  and  over 
again  that  ten  to  twenty  acres  of  good  irrigable  land 
are  all  that  is  needed  to  support  a  family,  and  there  is 
therefore  room  for  hundreds  of  thousands  of  immigrants. 
However,  it  is  candidly  admitted  that  Southern  Cali-  ' 
fornia  is  a  land  of  more  promise  to  the  farmer  who  has 
at  his  disposal  a  capital  of  a  few  thousand  dollars  than 
to  the  emigrant  who  brings  with  him  little  but  a  team 
and  a  pair  of  muscular  arms ;  for  improved  land,  with 
bearing  vines  and  fruit  trees,  costs  from  one  hundred 
to  five  hundred  dollars  an  acre,  while  unimproved  land, 
though  it  may  be  had  for  one-fifth  those  prices  (twenty 
to  one  hundred  dollars),  yields  no  return  for  several 
years,  unless  grain  is  raised ;  for  all  of  the  semi-tropical 
fruits  above  named  require  from  three  or  four  to  ten  , 
years  before  a  profitable  crop  is  yielded. 

And  yet  personal  observation  has  led  me  to  believe 
that  there  are  special  opportunities  in  this  region  pre- 
cisely for  the  farmer  with  limited  means,  if  he  is  willing 
to  curb  his  ambition  and  content  himself  with  dairy 
farming  and  the  raising  of  poultry  on  a  large  scale  for 
the  market.  The  farmers  now  settled  in  Southern  Cali- 
fornia are  so  ambitious  to  become  orange,  olive,  or  vine- 
yard kings  that  they  entirely  neglect  the  farmyard,  and 
have  hardly  enough  milk  and  butter  and  vegetables  for 
home  consumption.  It  is  almost  impossible  in  any  part 
of  Southern  California  to  get  a  good  piece  of  beef  or 
mutton,  and  chickens  are  imported  by  the  carload  from 
Kansas  and  other  "  Eastern  "  States,  and  sold  at  absurdly 
high  prices  at  Los  Angeles,  although  in  this  mild  climate 
it  is  easy  to  raise  chickens  all  the  year  round,  and  I 
have  myself  seen  splendid  broods  of  young  ones  grow 


20  SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA  IN   WINTER. 

up  in  about  half  the  time  they  need  in  the  East  to  reach 
a  marketable  size,  the  simple  precaution  being  taken  of 
providing  them  with  dry  housing  during  rainy  nights. 
If  this  is  not  done,  their  growth  is  remarkably  retarded, 
and  many  of  them  become  diseased,  and,  if  not  killed  or 
isolated,  will  infect  a  whole  yardful  of  poultry. 

Cattle-raising,  too,  must  prove  profitable  in  a  region 
where  the  animals  can  feed  on  the  green  foothills  and 
valleys  all  the  "winter,"  and  in  summer  eat  the  sun- 
dried  grass  or  clover  which  covers  the  whole  country. 
The  wild,  clover-like  alfileria,  which  furnishes  most  of 
this  natural  hay,  grows  in  profusion  along  the  roadsides 
land  in  the  meadows,  and  even  fills  up  the  empty  patches 
in  the  cactus  fields.  After  the  spring  rains  it  attains  a 
height  of  ten  to  fifteen  inches,  with  a  dozen  plants  to 
the  square  inch,  and  is  so  juicy  and  tender  that  one  can 
mow  it  down  with  a  cane  or  with  the  hands  ;  and  a 
week  later  it  is  as  high  as  if  it  had  never  been  cut. 
It  looks  so  luscious  and  sweet  as  to  almost  make  one 
long  to  be  a  cow  or  a  sheep,  in  order  to  be  really  "  in 
clover "  for  once.  Again,  the  cultivated  clover,  or 
Chilian  alfalfa,  if  sufficiently  irrigated,  yields  half-a- 
dozen  or  more  crops  of  hay  a  year,  which  makes  the 
sweetest  butter  and  meat  in  the  world.  Yet  the 
Southern  Californians,  as  I  have  just  said,  import  most 
of  their  butter  and  meat ;  consequently,  if  some  farmers 
should  undertake  to  supply  the  local  market  with  home- 
made products,  fresher  and  cheaper,  because  with  no 
freight  charges  on  them,  they  would  have  a  sure  source 
of  prosperity  before  them.  It  is  probable  that  the 
drought  of  1863-64  discouraged  the  cattle  business ;  but 
there  has  been  none  since  that  time,  and  with  the 
present  railway  facilities  and  a  reasonable  foresight  in 


SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA   IN   WINTER.  21 

storing  hay,  no  disaster  need  be  feared  in  the  future. 
Moreover,  one  of  the  best  and  cheapest  kinds  of  cattle 
food,  pumpkins,  as  large  as  beer-barrels,  can  be  raised 
here  by  the  thousand  with  hardly  any  trouble  or  ex- 
pense. Sometimes  they  lie  in  a  field  so  densely  that 
one  might  walk  over  it  without  touching  the  ground ; 
and  I  saw  several  fields  in  which  hundreds  of  fine 
pumpkins,  for  which  the  farmers  had  no  use,  owing  to 
the  scarcity  of  cattle,  were  left  to  rot  on  the  ground. 

Before  purchasing  land  in  California  of  the  South, 
it  is  well  that  the  investor  should  have  made  up  his 
mind  in  regard  to  what  branch  of  agriculture  he  wishes 
to  devote  himself.  For  although  it  is  one  of  the 
chief  advantages  of  this  soil  that  it  can  be  made  to  pro- 
duce most  of  the  fruits  of  the  temperate  and  semi-tropi- 
cal, and  some  of  the  tropical  zones,  yet  each  township 
or  locality  has  its  special  adaptedness  for  this  or  that 
product,  and  to  ignore  this  is  to  labor  under  disad- 
vantages. Thus,  Riverside  and  vicinity  have  been  found 
most  favorable  to  the  culture  of  the  orange,  because  the 
destructive  scale-bug  does  not  flourish  here  as  it  does 
nearer  to  the  coast.  Of  lemons,  the  finest  specimens  are 
grown  near  the  Mexican  border,  in  San  Diego  County, 
which  also  furnishes  some  of  the  best  raisins  and  olives. 
Santa  Barbara  County  yields  the  finest  pampas  plumes 
and  the  best  walnuts,  and  Los  Angeles  County  is  still  the 
wine  centre  of  the  South,  notwithstanding  the  ravages  of 
the  mysterious  vine  disease.  The  conclusion,  too,  is 
being  gradually  reached  that  for  vineyards  the  foothills 
are  the  best  localities,  since  in  Europe  all  the  best  vines 
are  raised  on  the  hill-sides.  Plants  of  a  distinctly  trop> 
ical  type,  also,  like  tea,  bananas,  etc.,  might  perhaps  be 
successfully  raised  on  the  lower  foothills,  which  have 


22  SOUTHEBN    CALIFORNIA  IN   WINTER. 

an  immunity  from  the  light  frost  that  occasionally,  in 
winter  and  spring,  visits  the  lowlands  near  the  ocean. 
And  besides  these  facts,  it  is  well  to  know  that  in  the 
same  locality  the  soil  often  presents  great  differences, 
so  that  in  a  twenty-acre  field  one  half  may  be  well 
adapted  for  the  orange  or  olive,  while  the  other  half 
needs  a  different  crop.  Above  all  things,  "  tenderfeet " 
should  beware  of  buying  land  immediately  after  the 
spring  rains ;  for  then  the  whole  face  of  the  country  is 
covered  with  a  rich  carpet  of  grass  and  flowers,  so  that 
it  is  difficult  to  distinguish  the  good  land  from  the  sand- 
bottomed  site  of  a  former  river  bed,  useless  for  anything 
but  cactus. 

Finally  comes  the  most  important  of  all  questions,  — 
the  facilities  for  irrigation.  Grain,  if  sown  in  winter  or 
early  spring,  ordinarily  needs  only  the  regular  rains  of 
the  season  to  reach  maturity,  and  there  are  localities 
where  many  other  crops  can  be  raised  without  irriga- 
tion ;  but  these  are  the  exception,  and  as  a  general 
thing  the  semi-tropical  fruits  which  constitute  the  spe- 
cialty of  Southern  California,  need  water  for  profitable 
culture.  So  well  is  this  now  understood  that  it  is  a 
favorite  joke  of  the  natives  to  say  that  if  you  pay  for 
the  air  and  water,  they  will  throw  in  the  land  gratis. 

Fortunately  there  are  no  fewer  than  six  sources  from 
which  crops  are  supplied  with  water,  if  we  include  rain. 
For  small  vegetable  or  flower  gardens  sufficient  water 
can  be  raised  by  means  of  windmills,  which  are  kept  i:i 
brisk  motion  every  afternoon  by  the  sea-breeze  in  tli2 
whole  region  within  twenty  or  thirty  miles  of  the  ocean, 
except  during  two  or  three  of  the  "  rainy  months," 
when  they  are  not  needed.  These  mills  also  supply  the 
kitchen,  and  it  is  curious  to  note  how  cold  the  water 


SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA  IN   WINTER.  23 

remains  in  the  large  tanks  exposed  all  day  long  to  a 
semi-tropical  sun.  Much  of  the  water  used  in  town  and 
orchard  is  supplied  by  artesian  wells,  which,  however, 
occur  only  in  certain  belts,  especially  in  Los  Angeles 
and  San  Bernardino  Counties,  although  none  of  these, 
I  believe,  equal  one  dug  in  Sonoma  County  last  winter, 
which  is  one  hundred  and  fifteen  feet  deep,  cost  only 
two  hundred  dollars,  and  yields  almost  half  a  million 
gallons  every  day. 

Rivers  of  the  size  of  the  Sacramento,  or  those  of  Ore- 
gon, Southern  California  has  none,  but  there  are  some 
smaller  rivers  and  a  large  number  of  creeks,  fed  by  the 
mountain  snows,  which  are  tapped  in  two  ways  for  irri- 
gating purposes,  —  on  the  surface  and  below  the  bed. 
The  surface  water  is  often  carried  many  miles  in  ditches  ; 
and  wise  is  the  community  which  lines  its  ditch  at  once 
with  cement,  else  in  summer  it  loses  almost  two-thirds 
of  its  water  supply  by  absorption  on  the  way.  The 
Santa  Ana  River,  which  is  quite  a  respectable  stream  in 
winter,  and  after  rains  becomes  a  formidable  torrent,  lia- 
ble to  overflow  its  banks  and  change  its  channel  (thereby 
causing  boundary  disputes),  is  in  summer  tapped  so 
freely  that  its  bed  becomes  dry,  and  not  a  drop  reaches 
the  ocean. 

Much  more  curious  than  this  surface  tapping,  how- 
ever, is  the  tunnelling,  by  means  of  which  the  water 
which  has  buried  itself  beneath  the  sandy  river  bed,  as 
if  to  escape  the  merciless  pillaging  of  the  hot  sun  and 
the  greedy  farmers,  is  brought  to  the  surface  again  and 
utilized.  It  is  in  this  way  that  the  Santa  Ana  River  is 
despoiled  of  its  last  drop,  and  the  value  of  this  proced- 
ure may  be  estimated  from  the  statement  made  by  the 
San  Bernardino  Times,  that  "the  Ontario  Land  Com- 


24  SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA   IN   WINTER. 

pany  has  driven  a  tunnel  in  under  San  Antonio  Creek, 
a  distance  of  nearly  eighteen  hundred  feet,  at  a  cost  of 
about  fifty-two  thousand  dollars,  and  they  have  about 
two  hundred  and  fifty  inches  of  water,  worth  a  quarter 
of  a  million  of  dollars."  As  it  hardly  ever  rains  during 
the  summer,  all  the  water  thus  drawn  off  the  rivers  in 
the  irrigating  season  comes  from  the  springs  and  the 
melting  snows  in  the  mountains.  This  is  just  about 
sufficient  for  the  present  needs  of  the  population ;  but 
no  fears  need  be  entertained  for  the  future,  since,  as  the 
rural  population  increases,  it  will  become  profitable  to 
expend  large  sums  in  building  reservoirs  in  the  canons 
to  store  the  abundant  winter  water  which  now  runs  to 
waste  in  the  ocean.  In  this  way  the  mountains  can  be 
made  to  yield  an  absolutely  unlimited  amount  of  water, 
sufficient  to  support  tens  of  millions ;  and  the  lesson 
taught  by  the  Johnstown  disaster  will  prevent  the  dams 
from  being  carelessly  constructed. 


III. 

THE   GREAT  AMERICAN  PARADISE. 

VALUE  OF  RESERVOIRS  —  WINTER  IN   SOUTHERN    CALIFOR- 
NIA  FLOWERS  AND   SUNSHINE WHERE   RAIN   MEANS 

"BETTER  WEATHER" — DRY  AIR  AND  SEA-BREEZES  — 
FOGS  AND  FROST CALIFORNIA  FOR  INVALIDS  AS  COM- 
PARED WITH  ITALY,  SPAIN,  AND  AFRICA RURAL 

CITIES  OF  THE  FUTURE THE  PACIFIC  ANDALUSIA SOME 

DISADVANTAGES GOPHERS,    DUST-STORMS,    DROUGHT 

ENEMIES  OF  THE  ORANGE  AND  VINE. 

THAT  there  could  be  no  better  way  of  investing  capi- 
tal than  by  building  reservoirs  is  shown  by  the  fact, 
recently  pointed  out  by  the  California  State  Board  of 
Trade,  that  ten  years  ago  the  lands  of  Frenso  sold  at 
from  three  dollars  to  twenty  dollars  per  acre,  while  now, 
with  water  on  it,  the  same  land  sells  at  from  seventy-five 
to  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  per  acre.  Equally 
great  is  the  gain  from  an  aesthetic  point  of  view.  Without 
water,  four-fifths  of  Southern  California  is  a  dreary  cac- 
tus desert  during  the  greater  part  of  the  year ;  with 
water,  it  is  a  veritable  garden  grove.  Nothing  could  be 
more  delightful  than  to  watch  the  effect  of  water  in  this 
magic  climate,  when  the  first  rains  fall  in  October  or 
November.  Up  to  that  period  everything  except  the 
irrigated  garden  and  orchard  oases  wears  a  parched 
yellow  and  brown  aspect ;  b'ut  hardly  has  the  rain  pen- 

25 


26  THE   GREAT  AMERICAN  PARADISE. 

etrated  a  few  inches  into  the  soil,  when  the  grass  turns 
green,  and  before  the  eye  has  become  accustomed  to  the 
change,  gaudy  flowers,  gradually  increasing  in  variety 
and  abundance,  spring  up  on  all  sides,  even  on  land 
which  appeared  to  be  pure  sand,  but  which  on  closer 
examination  proves  to  be  rich  in  decomposed  vegetable 
matter.  The  irrigated  gardens  have  an  abundance  of 
choice  flowers  all  the  year  round,  and  the  garden  of  the 
house  where  I  lived,  though  without  the  slightest  pre- 
/  tensions,  had  in  full  bloom,  in  January,  petunias,  calla 
lilies,  violets,  honeysuckles,  geraniums  (six  feet  in 
height),  stock,  California  poppy,  hyacinths,  smilax, 
heliotropes,  nasturtiums,  red,  white,  yellow,  and  green 
roses,  etc.  In  February  a  frost  nipped  the  leaves  of 
the  bananas,  heliotropes,  and  nasturtiums,  but  in  a  few 
days  they  were  out  again ;  and  of  the  three  or  four  sub- 
sequent frosts  none  was  heavy  enough  to  injure  them, 
while  the  other  flowers  mentioned  grew  uninjured  all 
the  "  winter."  This  was  at  Anaheim,  twelve  miles 
from  the  sea  and  twenty-eight  miles  south  of  Los  Ange- 
les, and  gives  a  better  idea  of  the  climate  than  columns 
of  statistics.  Nor  was  it  an  exceptional  year ;  for  there 
are  orange-trees  in  the  State  over  eighty  years  old,  and 
at  the  San  Fernando  Rey  Mission  olive-trees  over  a 
hundred  years  old,  proving  that  in  all  this  period  there 
has  been  no  frost  sufficiently  severe  or  prolonged  to 
injure  these  sensitive  trees.  In  1880  a  little  snow  fell 
in  Los  Angeles  County  —  just  enough  to  astonish  the 
young  folks,  who  had  never  before  seen  any ;  nor  have 
they  seen  any  since.  The  only  time  when  ice  ever 
forms  (never  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  inch  in  thick- 
ness) is  immediately  before  sunrise,  and  hardly  has  the 
sun  risen  above  the  horizon  when  it  disappears  again. 


THE  GREAT  AMERICAN   PARADISE.  27 

To  this  short  duration  of  the  occasional  frosts  is 
attributed  the  fact  that  they  do  not  kill  the  semi-trop- 
ical vegetation,  as  happens  occasionally  in  Southern 
Europe  ;  and  at  nine  or  ten  o'clock  the  California  farm- 
ers may  be  seen  ploughing  for  their  winter  wheat,  in 
shirt-sleeves.  Hence  sufferers  from  pulmonary  com- 
plaints who  cannot  endure  cold  will  not  know  that  the 
thermometer  ever  reaches  freezing-point  if  they  remain 
in  bed  till  the  sun  has  been  out  for  half  an  hour.  Im- 
mediately after  sunset  they  will  again  need  the  pro- 
tection of  the  house,  or  of  a  spring  overcoat,  as  the 
temperature  at  that  time  suddenly  drops  ten  to  thirty 
degrees.  But  while  the  sun  shines,  they  cannot  afford 
or  desire  to  lose  its  rays  for  a  single  minute.  It  is  the 
very  luxury  of  existence  to  walk,  ride,  or  hunt  in  the 
Southern  California  February  sunshine.  The  oldest 
inhabitants,  used  to  it  as  they  are,  cannot  help  mutter- 
ing every  morning,  "  What  a  fine  day !  "  January,  Feb- 
ruary, March,  and  April,  the  very  four  months  which 
are  the  most  disagreeable  of  the  twelve  in  the  East,  are 
here  the  most  perfect :  the  sky  of  the  deepest  blue,  the 
air  neither  cold  nor  warm,  exhilarating  and  laden  with 
the  perfumes  of  orange  blossoms  and  wild  flowers.  / 
There  are,  of  course,  some  disagreeable  days,  but  they 
are  few  and  far  between,  there  being  but  twelve  to 
twenty  rainy  days  in  Los  Angeles  County  during  the 
whole  "  rainy  season  "  from  November  to  May,  so  that 
invalids  hardly  ever  miss  their  sun-bath.  Dr.  C.  B. 
Bates  mentions,  in  the  Southern  California  Practitioner, 
the  case  of  a  consumptive  who  kept  a  record  of  the 
weather  at  Santa  Barbara,  and  found  that  in  a  year 
there  were  but  fifteen  days  upon  which  he  was  confined 
to  the  house,  ten  of  them  being  rainy  and  five  windy ; 


28  THE  GREAT   AMERICAN  PARADISE. 

and  another  case  of  a  lady  who,  without  any  other  than 
a  brush  shelter,  spent  all  of  eighteen  months,  except 
nine  nights,  in  the  open  air. 

This  will  appear  the  more  remarkable  in  view  of  a 
certain  peculiarity  of  Southern  California  rains.  Else- 
where people  often  exclaim,  "If  we  only  had  fine 
weather  in  the  daytime,  I  shouldn't  care  how  much  it 
rained  at  night ! "  Here  this  wish  is  fulfilled,  for  most 
of  the  rain  falls  at  night.  Some  will  be  ready  to  cry 
out  against  the  "  eternal  monotony  "  of  this  sunshine ; 
but  on  arriving  on  the  ground  they  will  find  this  ob- 
jection purely  theoretical,  and  will  be  only  too  glad 
to  know  that  they  can  make  projects  for  work  or  pleas- 
ure, for  picnics  or  excursions,  weeks  ahead,  with  an 
almost  absolute  certainty  of  having  fine  weather.  Still, 
there  are  a  few  day-showers  to  break  the  "  monotony," 
and  they  make  up  in  profusion  what  they  lack  in  fre- 
quency —  a  fascinating  spectacle  to  the  senses,  and  still 
more  to  the  imagination,  which  evokes  pictures  of  pros- 
perous grain-fields  and  lovely  flower-meadows.  Surely 
that  must  be  pronounced  an  ideal  climate  for  an  invalid 
and  valetudinarian  where  every  rainy  day,  even  during 
the  so-called  rainy  season,  is  regarded  as  a  special  dis- 
pensation of  a  kind  Providence,  is  commented  upon 
in  jubilant  editorials  by  the  journalists  (who  had  for 
some  time  predicted  "  better  weather,"  i.e.  rain),  and  is 
recorded  in  telegraphic  tables  noting  the  daily  rainfall 
in  every  town,  to  the  hundredth  of  an  inch !  And  be  it 
admitted  that  there  is  ground  for  this  jubilation ;  for  in 
three  years  out  of  ten  the  rainfall  is  insufficient,  and 
then  the  crops  suffer,  except  where  irrigation  is  prac- 
tised. 

In  this  immunity  from  rain-storms,  Southern  California 


THE  GREAT   AMERICAN  PARADISE.  29 

possesses  a  great  advantage  over  other  winter  resorts  for 
invalids,  but  it  is  only  one  out  of  half-a-dozen  advan- 
tages which  may  here  be  briefly  touched  upon.  The 
first  and  most  important  is  the  dryness  of  the  atmos- 
phere, which  favors  the  rapid  radiation  of  the  earth's 
heat,  so  that  the  nights  are  always  cool  enough  for  re- 
freshing sleep,  even  in  midsummer ;  and  sleep  is  the  best 
of  all  medicines.  So  dry  is  this  air  that  strips  of  beef 
can  be  jerked  in  it  by  simply  letting  them  hang  out- 
doors till  desiccated.  And  the  strangest  part  of  it  is 
that  the  sea-breeze,  which  always  blows  during  the 
hottest  hours  of  the  day,  is  a  dry  wind,  too  —  a  circum- 
stance which  some  have  tried  to  account  for  by  consid- 
ering it  a  sort  of  undertow,  or  a  wave  of  air  which 
came  from  the  dry  desert  lands  to  the  eastward,  and 
returns  thither,  absorbing  but  little  moisture  during  its 
brief  contact  with  the  ocean.  But  whatever  the  cause 
of  this  dryness,  it  is  a  great  hygienic  factor,  which  this 
region  can  play  out  as  one  of  its  highest  trumps  against 
Florida  and  Italy.  No  enervating,  malarial  swamp 
winds,  no  sultriness,  such  as  often  makes  suicide  a  wel- 
come thought  in  the  East,  will  ever  oppress  any  one 
in  this  Western  sanitarium,  not  even  during  the  rainy 
spells.  Nor  has  California  ever  suffered  from  yellow 
fever,  like  Florida,  .or  from  the  cholera,  which  is  a  fre- 
quent menace  in  Spain,  Italy,  and  Sicily.  Again,  on 
the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  in  Europe  as  well  as  in 
Africa,  the  invalid  will  find  it  almost  impossible  to  ob- 
tain comfortable  lodgings  and  proper  food,  except  in  the 
large  cities,  while  in  California  he  can  find  home  com- 
forts in  any  village  and  many  farmhouses  in  the  midst 
of  the  wildest  scenery  and  purest  air.  Never  will  his 
nostrils  be  offended  here  by  the  pestilential  odors  which 


30  THE   GKEAT   AMERICAN   PARADISE. 

poison  the  air  within  a  radius  of  several  miles  of  Italian 
and  Spanish  cities ;  nor  will  he  ever  be  compelled  by  the 
muddy  condition  of  the  streets  to  take  his  walks  all 
winter  long  on  the  roof  of  the  hotel,  as  the  proprietor  of 
the  Continental  at  Tangier  told  me  some  of  his  invalid 
winter-guests  did.  What  a  life  compared  with  the 
floral  walks,  the  hunting,  fishing,  and  picnicking  on  the 
dry  ground  and  under  the  blue,  rainless  sky  of  Los 
Angeles  or  San  Diego  County  !  Surely,  Southern  Cal- 
ifornia is  destined  to  become  the  sanitarium,  not  only  of 
America,  but  of  Europe  as  well. 

What  makes  the  fulfilment  of  this  prophecy  the  more 
probable  is  the  circumstance  that  California  is  an  all- 
the-year-round  sanitarium,  and  not  one  of  the  mere 
winter  resorts  which  compel  the  unwilling  invalids  to 
pack  up  and  seek  a  new  clime,  when  May  is  gone.  No 
one  would  dream  of  spending  the  summer  at  Malaga, 
Cannes,  Naples,  Palermo,  Algiers,  or  Jacksonville,  ex- 
posed to  a  sultry,  malarial  atmosphere,  and  the  danger 
of  deadly  epidemics ;  whereas  California  has  countless 
places  where  summer  and  winter  are  alike,  or  rather 
alike  unknown,  the  only  season  known  being  an  eternal 
spring.  Many  residents  in  our  Eastern  and  Middle 
States  have  often  wondered  what  has  become  of  the 
spring,  which  used  to  form  one  of  our  seasons.  It  has 
followed  the  general  tide  of  immigration,  has  gone  West, 
and  may  now  be  found  in  riotous  exuberance  along  the 
coast  and  the  foothills  of  California.  Not  that  all  parts 
of  Southern  California  are  as  exempt  from  a  summer 
season  as  they  are  of  winter.  On  the  contrary,  there 
are  many  most  desirable  winter  resorts  which  invalids 
and  tourists  will  be  only  too  glad  to  abandon  in  June, 
such  as  Riverside,  and  other  places  too  far  in  the  in- 


THE    GREAT   AMERICAN   PARADISE.  31 

terior  to  get  the  benefit  ot  the  afternoon  sea-breezes. 
Even  so  near  the  sea  as  Los  Angeles,  it  is  by  no  means 
pleasant  to  be  exposed  directly  to  the  rays  of  the  July 
sun ;  yet,  owing  to  the  dryness  of  the  atmosphere,  — 
which,  moreover,  increases  as  the  heat  increases,  — 100° 
is  not  so  oppressive  here  as  90°  in  New  York.  Be- 
sides, in  the  East  there  is  no  refuge  from  the  all-pervad- 
ing heat,  except  in  a  cellar;  whereas  here  one  needs 
only  to  step  in  the  shade  to  find  relief,  the  difference 
between  the  sunny  and  the  shady  side  of  a  house  run- 
ning as  high  as  30°.  Finally,  as  Southern  California 
has  an  average  width  of  only  forty  miles,  it  takes  only 
an  hour  or  two  to  reach  the  sea-coast,  where  it  is  always 
pleasant;  and  cool  mountain  resorts  are  equally  accessi- 
ble everywhere,  as  can  be  seen  by  a  glance  at  the  map, 
which  is  blackened  by  groups  and  chains  of  mountains, 
attaining  in  the  San  Bernardino  range  a  height  of  ovei 
eleven  thousand  feet.  No  wonder  that  camping  is  the  \ 
favorite  pastime  of  the  Calif ornian  in  summer,  and  not 
only  of  the  wealthy ;  for  as  the  farmer  does  all  his  work 
in  winter,  he  can  lie  fallow  in  summer,  like  his  som- 
nolent fields,  and  pitch  his  tent  along  any  beach  or 
cafion  he  chooses ;  and  camp-life  is  so  inexpensive, 
especially  when  rod  and  rifle  are  available,  that  the 
poorest  can  indulge  in  this  luxury  during  the  warm- 
est months. 

Surely,  when  the  human  race  cuts  its  wisdom  teeth, 
it  will  no  longer  crowd  into  dirty,  noisy,  malodorous 
cities,  but  will  seek  health  and  fresh  air  all  the  year 
round.  Southern  California  will  loom  up  more  and 
more  as  an  ideal  place  for  building  up  a  vast  city  in  the 
country,  so  to  speak,  —  a  city  in  which  each  house  will 
be  surrounded  by  ten  or  twenty  acres  of  irrigated  land, 


32  THE   GREAT   AMERICAN   PARADISE. 

capable  of  producing  all  the  fruits  and  vegetables,  eggs 
and  poultry,  needed  by  the  family,  and  shaded  by  one  of 
the  fifty  varieties  of  eucalyptus-trees  already  imported 
from  Australia,  or  by  the  spacious  pepper-tree,  and  a 
small  orange,  peach,  and  fig  orchard.  Such  a  city  could 
be  built  up  in  a  few  years,  with  shade  and  all.  Else- 
where when  people  plant  trees,  they  do  so  for  the  bene- 
fit of  posterity ;  here  a  row  of  the  eucalyptus  will 
grow  in  a  few  years  large  enough  to  afford  abundance 
of  shade.  Noiseless  electric  railways  will  traverse  this 
country  town  in  every  direction,  bringing  the  scattered 
population  to  the  business  places  and  centres  of  amuse- 
ment. But  they  will  not  crave  the  artificial  excitements 
of  city  life  as  they  do  now  ;  for  when  there  are  no  excur- 
sions to  the  sea  or  the  mountains,  the  fascinating  care  of 
the  orange  groves  and  flower  gardens  will  absorb  all  the 
leisure  moments.  What  novel,  what  theatrical  play, 
could  afford  so  much  amusement  as  the  daily  irrigation 
of  a  flower-bed,  and  noticing  how  the  plants  grow  visibly 
and  in  a  few  weeks  develop  into  exotic  wildernesses  of 
tropical  and  semi-tropical  flowers  of  the  most  gorgeous 
colors  and  unheard-of  size  ?  Or  watching  a  rose-bush 
as  it  gradually  intertwines  itself  among  the  branches  of 
an  orange-tree,  which  some  morning  will  present  the 
bewitching  spectacle  of  a  tree  bearing  red  roses,  white 
orange  blossoms,  and  golden  oranges  all  at  the  same 
time?  Or  sitting  under  this  orange-tree  in  February, 
listening  to  a  mocking-bird  perched  on  its  branches, 
and  reading  in  your  paper  about  the  blizzards  and  storms 
of  the  East,  and  the  tornadoes  and  cyclones  which 
you  know  will  never  visit  your  home  ?  Why  should  our 
novelists  lay  the  scenes  of  their  tales  in  Andalusia  when 
we  have  an  Andalusia  of  our  own  here  on  the  Pacific 


THE   GREAT   AMERICAN   PARADISE.  33 

Coast  ?  At  one  time  it  formed  part  of  the  so-called 
Great  American  Desert,  but  in  the  next  century  it  will 
be  known  as  the  Great  American  Paradise. 

Yet  let  not  the  coming  population  of  the  Pacific  An- 
dalusia fancy  that  they  will  be  spared  all  the  trials  and 
annoyances  of  life.  Even  Southern  California  has  its 
disadvantages,  —  quite  enough  to  prevent  it  from  degen 
crating  into  a  Utopia.  Thus  you  will  some  morning  be 
standing  in  your  garden  admiring  your  favorite  banana 
bush.  Suddenly  it  will  tremble  and  sink  into  the 
ground  a  foot  or  two.  Earthquakes  are  not  unknown 
in  this  region,  but  they  don't  "  strike  in  one  place  "  like 
that.  No,  it  was  one  of  those  irrepressible  gophers,  the 
terror  of  the  rural  Californian.  They  will  eat  the  roots 
of  your  fruit  trees  and  choicest  flowers,  regardless  of 
expense;  and  though  cats  and  traps  will  catch  them, 
and  irrigation  drowns  them,  the  neighboring  fields 
always  furnish  a  fresh  supply ;  and  what  is  worse,  their 
subterranean  passages  from  these  fields  serve  as  tunnels 
which  carry  off  your  water,  and  make  you  pay  twice  as 
much  for  irrigation  as  you  would  have  needed  but  for 
those  holes.  Then  there  are  scale-bugs  of  all  colors, 
which  attack  your  orange-trees  and  have  to  be  sprayed 
off ;  and  a  mysterious  disease  which  kills  your  vines 
and  small  green  insects  which  eat  up  your  flowers  and 
buds  so  that  you  need  a  whole  drug  store  to  combat  them. 
Rabbits  will  eat  your  vegetables  and  grape-vines,  and 
the  quails  will  feed  on  your  grapes ;  arid,  to  add  insult 
to  injury,  the  Los  Angeles  sporting  clubs  have  suc- 
ceeded in  passing  a  law  which  prevents  you  from  shoot- 
ing these  birds  at  a  time  when  it  would  do  most  to 
protect  your  crops.  However,  if  you  are  a  sportsman, 
you  will  forgive  and  observe  this  law,  which  enables 


34  THE   GREAT   AMERICAN  PARADISE. 

you  at  other  times  to  shoot  at  a  flock  of  quail  in  your 
own  vegetable  garden,  though  you  live  in  a  town  of 
two  or  three  thousand  inhabitants. 

The  desolate  appearance  which  all  the  unirrigated 
parts  of  the  country  present  after  May  must  also  be 
reckoned  among  the  disadvantages  of  this  climate ;  for 
a  sensitive  soul  can  hardly  help  feeling  pity  for  the 
drooping,  parched  vegetation,  especially  after  having 
noticed  how  eagerly  it  drinks  in  the  first  rain  of  the 
autumn,  with  as  much  evident  enjoyment  as  a  Bava- 
rian emptying  his  mug  of  beer  at  a  draught.  Nor  can 
one  help  admitting  that  the  orange  groves  and  eucalyp- 
tus avenues,  delightful  as  they  are,  cannot  entirely 
atone  for  the  absence  of  green  forests;  for  Southern 
California,  except  in  the  foothills,  is  as  treeless  as  Spain — 
which  it  resembles  in  so  many  other  respects,  —  and  a 
single  oak-tree  has  more  than  once  furnished  the  nucleus 
of  a  town.  The  higher  mountains  are  as  bare  of  trees 
as  the  valleys,  but  this  is  compensated  for  by  the  conse- 
quent greater  clearness  and  variety  of  the  sculptured 
outlines,  and  by  the  snows  which  fall  during  every 
rainstorm,  sometimes  extending  almost  down  to  the 
foothills.  In  the  clear  southern  atmosphere  these  moun- 
tains, though  they  be  fifty  or  sixty  miles  away,  seem  to 
be  almost  within  stone's  throw  ;  and  as  they  are  visible 
everywhere,  they  constitute  one  of  the  greatest  charms 
of  Southern  California.  Once  in  a  while,  however, 
this  view  is  spoiled  for  a  day  or  two  by  one  of  those 
desert  winds  and  sand-storms  which  are  the  most  annoy- 
ing feature  of  this  climate,  and  are  known  as  the 
Norther,  or  the  "  Santa  Ana  "  wind,  as  the  Anaheimers 
call  it,  in  order  to  give  a  hated  rival  town  a  bad  name. 
Without  being  a  hurricane,  or  even  a  gale,  this  wind 


THE  GREAT  AMERICAN   PARADISE.  35 

reaches  a  considerable  velocity,  is  as  dry  and  warm  as  if 
it  came  from  an  oven,  and  raises  clouds  of  dust  which 
obscure  the  sun  and  mountains  as  effectually  as  the 
smoke  of  the  forest  fires  does  in  Oregon,  and  a  film  of 
which  even  lines  the  waters  of  the  Pacific  to  a  consid- 
erable distance  from  the  shore.  If  I  finally  mention 
that  this  dust,  even  when  it  lies  quietly  on  the  ground 
two  or  three  inches  thick  during  seven  or  eight  months 
of  the  year,  is  by  no  means  a  desirable  thing  to  have 
about,  I  shall  have  mentioned  all  the  serious  blemishes 
that  I  could  discover  on  the  face  of  this  fair  country ; 
and  they  are  so  insignificant  compared  with  its  attrac- 
tions that  I  have  given  them  the  advantage  of  having 
the  last  word  in  this  chapter,  confident  that  they  cannot 
essentially  modify  the  opinion  therein  expressed  as  to 
the  future  of  Southern  California. 


IV. 
THE  HOME   OF  THE   ORANGE. 

THE    GERMAN    COLONY    AT    ANAHEIM BABBIT-HUNTING     IN 

THE    CACTUS    FIELDS COWS    AND    ORANGES THE     BEST 

CALIFORNIA    ORANGE  —  RIVERSIDE    AND     ITS     MODEL    OR- 
CHARDS   ORANGE-PICKING A       WONDERFUL       AVENUE 

LOCAL    FLAVOR    IN    ORANGES AN  ENGLISH  COLONY 

HOW    PROHIBITION     PROHIBITS SCENES     BETWEEN    RIV- 
ERSIDE   AND    SAN   DIEGO. 

AFTER  enjoying  the  sights  of  Los  Angeles,  including 
the  palms  and  orange  groves,  the  cable-car  scenery,  and 
Chinatown,  which  have  been  often  enough  described,  it 
will  repay  the  tourist  to  devote  a  week  or  two  to  a 
round  trip  through  that  part  of  the  State  which  lies  south 
of  Los  Angeles  as  far  as  San  Diego  and  Tia  Juana  on 
the  Mexican  border.  Take  a  ticket  to  Riverside,  via 
Orange,  and  stop  over  a  day  at  Anaheim,  which  com- 
mands a  specially  fine  view  of  the  snow-capped  San 
Gabriel  range  and  the  giant  San  Bernardino.  Anaheim 
is  known  as  the  "  mother  colony,"  having  been  founded 
as  early  as  1858  by  a  party  of  fifty  Germans  from  San 
Francisco,  in  search  of  a  pleasant  site  for  homes  and 
good  soil  for  raising  Rhine  wine.  To-day  the  popula- 
tion is  no  longer  exclusively  German,  nor  is  wine-mak- 
ing the  chief  industry;  for  Anaheim  enjoys  the  sad 
distinction  of  being  the  place  where  the  destructive  vine 


THE  HOME   OF  THE  OKANGE.  37 

disease  originated,  and  now  there  are  few  good  vineyards 
left  in  the  vicinity,  though  the  cellars  of  the  hospitable 
families  are  still  well  stocked  with  a  Riesling  that  unmis- 
takably betrays  its  legitimate  descent  from  the  cele- 
brated Johannisberger  stock  on  the  Rhine.  Undaunted 
by  their  misfortune,  the  Anaheimers  have  dug  out  their 
dead  vines  and  planted  in  their  place  oranges,  walnuts, 
pampas  plumes,  and  figs,  which  in  a  few  years  will  bear 
as  rich  fruit  and  as  big  profits  as  the  former  vineyards. 
The  fields  and  orchards  are  supplied  with  water  through 
a  ditch  from  the  Santa  Ana  River,  sixteen  miles  long, 
and  lined  all  the  way  with  willows.  A  drive  along 
this  ditch  is  interesting,  as  is  a  visit  to  the  ostrich  farm, 
two  or  three  miles  from  the  town.  If  a  longer  stay  is 
contemplated,  there  is  excellent  hunting  of  wild  goose, 
ducks,  and  other  water-fowl,  all  the  way  from  Anaheim 
to  the  ocean,  while  in  the  cactus  fields  around  the  town 
may  be  found  quails  and  pigeons,  and  the  sportive  jack- 
rabbit  abounds.  In  hunting  him,  you  not  only  satisfy 
the  craving  for  murder  of  some  sort,  which  still  lingers 
as  a  relic  of  savagery  in  the  gentlest  human  breast,  but 
you  do  a  great  service  to  the  farmers,  who  are  some- 
times obliged  in  self-defence  to  organize  rabbit  drives, 
at  which  two  or  three  thousand  of  the  long-eared,  fleet- 
footed  robbers  are  killed. 

Rabbit-hunting  in  cactus  fields  is  a  sport  quite  BUI 
generis.  The  moment  you  catch  a  glimpse  of  Jack,  he 
is  apt  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  you  and  dodge  behind  a  cac- 
tus bush ;  and  if  you  follow  him  too  quickly  but  un- 
wisely, you  will  suddenly  find  your  nether  limbs  pierced 
with  a  thousand  fish-hook-pointed  thorns,  requiring  an 
hour  or  two  of  hard  and  bloody  work  for  their  extrac- 
tion. Unless  you  kill  him  on  the  spot  he  will  crawl 


38  THE  HOME   OF  THE  ORANGE. 

into  a  cactus  bush,  where  neither  dog  nor  devil  can 
get  at  him.  You  know  just  where  he  is,  but  he  might 
as  well  be  at  the  bottom  of  the  Pacific  so  far  as  you  are 
concerned.  But  the  loss  is  not  great ;  for  three  out  of 
four  of  these  rabbits  are  not  fit  to  eat,  and  are  therefore 
usually  chopped  up  for  chicken  food.  Whether  it  is 
that  in  their  flight  they  run  against  a  thorny  cactus 
leaf  or  that  they  carry  off  part  of  a  load  of  shot,  the 
fact  is  that  the  meat  is  generally  diseased,  being  filled 
with  a  granular  jelly-like  substance  like  tapioca  pud- 
ding. Tourists  will  do  well  to  avoid  hare  when  they 
find  it  on  a  Los  Angeles  bill  of  fare,  as  there  is  little 
reason  to  believe  that  the  huge  piles  of  jacks  seen  in 
the  market  there  have  been  carefully  sorted.  But  there 
is  another  much  smaller  rabbit,  the  cotton-tail,  which 
affords  equally  good  sport,  and  which  is  always  good  to 
eat;  the  younger  ones  tasting  somewhat  like  chicken. 
Near  the  towns  they  are  shy,  active  dodgers,  and  hard 
to  shoot  unless  you  sneak  on  them ;  but  in  less  fre- 
quented hunting-grounds  they  graze  complacently  along 
the  roadsides  and  look  upon  passing  buggies  as  calmly 
as  cows.  Bang!  goes  the  gun;  Nero  jumps  out  and 
brings  the  victim ;  and  in  this  way  dozens  can  be  bagged 
in  a  few  hours,  before  sunset,  without  once  leaving  the 
buggy ;  so  that  even  invalids  and  cripples  can  go  rab- 
bitrhunting  in  Southern  California.  But  there  are 
stranger  things  still. 

Did  you  ever  see  a  cow  eat  oranges  off  a  tree  ?  That 
was  one  of  the  sights  I  witnessed  in  Anaheim.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  basketful  of  windfall  seedlings  which 
she  received  every  day,  our  Millie,  like  Eve,  cast  long- 
ing eyes  on  the  fruit  tree  near  her  open  stable,  and  one 
day  she  broke  loose  and  had  a  regular  picnic  before  she 


THE   HOME   OF  THE   OEANGE.  39 

was  discovered.  Her  daughter,  too,  a  promising  young 
Jersey  of  six  weeks,  after  one  or  two  suspicious  trials, 
became  very  fond  of  oranges,  and  having  eaten  three  or 
four,  would  baah  for  more.  The  children  of  our  Mexi- 
can neighbors,  seeing  all  this  fun,  would  come  in  to  buy 
some  for  themselves,  and  received  a  liberal  dozen  for 
n've  cents. 

These  seedling  oranges  make  delicious  orangeade,  and 
have  a  certain  value  because  they  ripen  later  than  the 
finer  sorts  and  produce  larger  crops ;  but  they  are  rather 
sour  and  thick-skinned,  and  therefore  fetch  only  a  dollar 
or  even  seventy-five  cents  a  box  on  the  tree  and  two 
dollars  at  Chicago,  while  the  best  budded  variety  brings 
two  dollars  and  a  half  to  three  dollars  on  the  tree  and 
four  dollars  to  four  dollars  and  a  half  in  Chicago.  Con- 
sequently the  seedlings  are  no  longer  set  out  to  any 
extent,  while  the  demand  for  Washington-navel-trees 
was  so  great  last  winter  that  the  nurserymen  could  not 
supply  the  demand,  and  young  trees  had  to  be  imported 
from  Florida.  The  Washington-navel  is  by  far  the 
best  of  all  California  oranges.  It  is  a  Brazilian  orange, 
imported  in  1873,  and  seems  specially  adapted  to  the 
climatic  conditions  of  California.  Riverside  is  its  chief 
home,  and  Riverside  navels  are  so  highly  valued  that 
even  in  Los  Angeles  you  get  only  three  or  four  of  them 
for  a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  They  are  very  large,  and,  like 
the  Spanish  blood-oranges,  almost  always  seedless,  have 
a  thin  skin  (with  a  small,  navel-like  formation  or  even 
a  tiny  orange  at  one  end),  and  a  sweet  and  most  deli- 
cately flavored  juice.  I  have  squeezed  as  many  as 
twenty  teaspoonfuls  of  juice  out  of  a  single  one  of  these 
oranges  —  a  feat  which  I  have  never  succeeded  in  accom- 
plishing with  a  Florida  orange.  (I  may  add  in  paren- 


40  THE  HOME   OP  THE   ORAHGE. 

thesis  that  to  eat  an  orange  with  a  teaspoon  is  to  lose 
two-thirds  of  its  flavor.) 

The  town  of  Orange,  between  Anaheim  and  River- 
side, already  gives  warning  of  the  neighborhood  of  the 
State's  orange  centre.  The  station,  in  the  springtime, 
is  piled  up  to  the  ceiling  with  boxes  of  oranges,  and 
near  by  a  number  of  men  are  busily  at  work  wiping  the 
golden  fruit  with  wet  rags  and  rolling  it  down  inclined 
boards  to  dry,  preparatory  to  packing.  The  fruit  is 
generally  bought  on  the  trees  by  the  packing  companies, 
who  send  round  their  men  with  ladders,  and  sacks  sus- 
pended around  their  necks,  from  which  the  fruit  is 
transferred  to  boxes,  to  be  repacked  afterwards,  the 
bruised  or  imperfect  ones  being  thrown  out,  so  that 
three  boxes  (of  the  seedlings  at  any  rate)  yield  only 
two  for  the  market.  Orange-picking  is  painted  by  the 
imagination  as  the  most  poetic  of  all  agricultural 
employments,  and  nothing  certainly  could  look  more 
picturesque  than  the  boxes  of  luscious  fruit  scattered 
through  an  orchard,  under  the  dark-green,  fragrant 
trees ;  but  the  orange-tree,  like  the  rose-bush  that  loves 
to  twine  around  it,  bristles  with  thorns  which  cry  for 
blood,  and  make  orange-picking  about  as  exciting  and 
perilous  a  pursuit  as  rabbit-hunting  amid  the  cactus 
bushes. 

The  town  of  Orange  belonged  till  lately  to  Los 
Angeles  County  (a  separate  Orange  County  was 
formed  last  year  with  Santa  Ana  as  its  capital),  but 
before  reaching  Riverside  we  have  entered  San  Ber- 
nardino County,  the  largest  in  the  United  States  — 
"about  the  size  of  the  States  of  Connecticut,  Dela- 
ware, Maryland,  and  Massachusetts  combined."  The 
counties  of  Southern  California  are  very  much  larger 


THE  HOME   OF   THE   ORANGE.  41 

than  those  of  the  central  and  northern  part  of  the  State, 
and  as  the  population  increases  they  will  doubtless  be 
further  subdivided.  But  it  is  doubtful  if  San  Ber- 
nardino County  will  be  divided  very  soon,  for  the 
greater  part  of  it  is  comprised  in  the  irredeemable 
Mojave  Desert.  The  region  west  of  the  Bernardino 
range,  however,  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  in  the 
State,  experience  having  shown  that  it  is  the  chosen 
home  of  the  orange.  Los  Angeles  County  has  many 
fine  and  luxuriant  orange  groves,  and  more  of  them 
than  San  Bernardino  County;  yet  to  see  California 
orange  culture  in  its  highest  perfection,  one  must  go  to 
Riverside.  Nowhere  else  do  the  orchards  seem  so  lux- 
uriant and  so  well  cultivated,  or  the  fruit  and  trees  so 
glossy  and  clean.  Here  the  oranges  do  not  need  clean- 
ing with  a  rag,  owing  to  the  absence  of  the  black  scale 
which  elsewhere  often  gives  the  leaves  and  fruit  a  dirty 
appearance.  The  white  scale-bug,  too,  which  destroys 
the  trees,  has  thus  far  spared  Riverside  groves,  and  in 
the  business  street  of  the  town  a  notice  is  posted  warn- 
ing purchasers  of  orange-trees  not  to  import  any  from 
infected  counties.  The  orange  is  not  indigenous  to 
California,  as  it  is  to  Mexico  and  Florida ;  it  does  not 
nourish  here  without  some  care,  and  becomes  remuner- 
ative in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  care  bestowed  on 
it.  A  glance  at  the  well-ploughed,  weedless,  carefully 
irrigated  orchards  of  Riverside  at  once  explains  the 
enormous  profits  realized  by  local  growers ;  and  an 
incident  that  occurred  at  Anaheim  throws  further  light 
on  the  matter.  Noticing  a  couple  of  malodorous  freight- 
cars  on  the  side  track,  I  asked  a  man  what  they  con- 
tained. "  Manure,"  he  replied,  "  from  the  numerous 
sheep  corrals  in  the  neighborhood,  and  bound  for  River- 


42  THE  HOME  OF  THE  ORANGE. 

side,"  adding  that  this  had  been  found  the  best  manure 
for  oranges,  and  that  in  a  few  years  the  Anaheimers, 
who  now  foolishly  sold  their  treasure,  would  be  import- 
ing it  from  elsewhere  at  an  exorbitant  price.  Rows  of 
cypress-trees  are  planted  along  the  edge  of  every 
orchard,  and  sometimes  even  traverse  the  orchard  in 
several  places,  to  serve  as  windbreaks ;  for  though  there 
are  no  hurricanes  to  provide  against,  the  desert  wind  is 
sometimes  sufficiently  boisterous  to  shake  down  bushels 
of  unripe  fruit  and  break  the  heavily  laden  branches 
unless  thus  protected. 

The  best  way  to  see  the  Riverside  orange  groves,  and 
marvel  at  their  extent,  is  to  ride  or  walk  along  Magnolia 
Avenue,  doubtless  the  finest  avenue  in  America.  It  is 
laid  out  a  distance  of  twelve  miles,  and  seven  miles  are 
now  finished.  Between  the  road  and  the  houses  on  each 
side  are  four  rows  of  tall  eucalyptus  and  spreading  pep- 
per-trees, and  two  rows  of  fan  palms,  ten  to  twenty  feet 
in  height,  and  growing  more  beautiful  every  year.  Nor 
is  this  fine  avenue  a  monopoly  of  carriage-owners ;  for 
the  poorest  can  enjoy  its  sights  by  paying  ten  cents  for 
a  ride  in  the  street  cars,  which  have  their  track  under  a 
row  of  pepper-trees,  without  interfering  with  the  broad 
carriage-drive.  In  this  way  Riverside  spreads  itself  out, 
covering  a  territory,  orchards  included,  of  fifty-four 
square  miles,  and  almost  realizing  the  ideal  of  one  of 
those  California  "  rural  cities  of  the  future,"  sketched  in 
the  last  chapter.  The  grounds  of  some  of  the  elegant 
villas  which  line  this  road  are  thrown  open  to  the  pub- 
lic, and  one  of  them,  which  I  examined,  with  its  exten- 
sive stables,  shady  walks,  hammocks,  tennis  grounds, 
and  notices  of  club  meetings,  and  al-fresco  teas,  had  an 
air  of  hospitality  and  sociability,  recalling  the  life  on 


THE   HOME   OF   THE    ORANGE.  43 

Southern  plantations  before  the  Civil  War.  The  large 
adobe  house,  a  relic  of  the  Spanish  occupation,  was  deli- 
ciously  cool  on  a  warm  day,  and  the  owner  said  he  did 
not  find  it  unhealthy.  He  showed  me  through  his  ex- 
tensive orchard,  and  with  a  large  table-knife  cut  open 
specimens  of  more  than  half-a-dozen  different  kinds  of 
budded  oranges  for  me  to  taste.  They  were  all  sweet 
and  juicy,  but  he  had  to  admit  himself  that  the  differ- 
.ences  in  flavor  were  not  so  pronounced  as  the  differences 
in  the  original  homes  of  these  varieties  led  one  to  expect. 
California  fruit-growers  doubtless  attempt  too  much  in 
seeking  to  raise  oranges  from  so  many  different  coun- 
tries in  the  same  field  without  losing  their  characteristic 
flavor.  This  difference  in  flavor  is  due  to  differences  in 
soil  and  climate,  and  can  only  be  preserved  and  repro- 
duced in  a  similar  soil  and  climate.  As  California  for- 
tunately has  an  infinite  variety  of  climates  and  soil,  it 
is  probable  that  the  problem  of  raising  Italian,  Spanish, 
Mexican,  and  Florida  oranges  all  in  the  same  State  will 
yet  be  solved,  but  not  in  one  and  the  same  orchard. 
The  Spanish  blood-orange,  for  instance,  the  most  deli- 
cately flavored  of  all  oranges,  is  rarely  seen  in  California ; 
and  when  I  asked  why,  I  was  told  that  it  was  inclined 
to  sport  and  lose  its  characteristics.  There  is  a  for- 
tune in  store  for  the  man  who  finds  out  under  what  con- 
ditions this  variety  flourishes  in  Spain,  and  seeks  out  a 
similar  locality  for  it  at  home.  Another  excellent  va- 
riety, the  Florida  russet,  I  never  saw  on  the  Pacific 
Coast.  Its  appearance  is  against  it,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
teach  people  to  select  their  fruit  for  the  palate  rather 
than  the  eye. 

Riverside  is  a  little  too  far  inland  to  get  much  benefit 
from  the  ocean  breezes,  but  it  is  surrounded  by  moun- 


44  THE   HOME   OF  THE   ORANGE. 

tains,  snow-capped  till  summer,  which  to  some  extent 
atone  for  this  disadvantage,  and  which  make  Riverside, 
from  a  scenic  point  of  view,  one  of  the  most  attractive 
places  in  the  State.  This,  combined  with  its  horticul- 
tural prosperity,  causes  it  to  grow  rapidly,  and  among 
the  new  comers  and  the  old  there  are  a  large  number 
of  English  families,  who,  of  course,  endeavor  to  bring 
their  household  gods  and  customs  with  them.  Fore- 
most among  these  is  the  fox-hunt ;  but  as  there  are  no 
foxes  to  be  hunted,  the  simple-minded  plebeian  jack- 
rabbit  has  to  take  the  place  of  his  astute,  bushy-tailed 
colleague.  There  are  no  fences  to  jump  or  fields  to 
destroy,  and  everything  is  in  plain  sight ;  but  as  the 
riding  is  much  faster  than  in  England,  there  is  no  lack 
of  excitement.  To  come  home  from  one  of  these  hunts 
with  a  pair  of  rabbit  ears  in  her  hat  is  the  chief  pride  of 
the  English  damsels  at  Riverside.  Besides,  these  orna- 
ments take  the  place  of  a  parasol,  much  needed  here 
sometimes.  In  midsummer,  no  doubt,  Riverside  is  a 
good  place  to  get  away  from,  but  in  winter  it  offers 
special  advantages  to  invalids,  provided  they  are  willing 
to  submit  to  being  treated  like  children,  in  being  told 
what  they  may  drink  and  what  they  may  not.  River- 
side is  a  prohibition  town.  So  I  discovered  at  the  hotel 
when  I  asked  for  a  pint  of  claret.  I  have  never  been 
drunk  in  my  life,  and  I  find  that  a  few  glasses  of  pure 
claret  aid  my  digestion,  and  moreover  I  like  it,  and  am 
able  to  pay  for  it.  Yet  here  I,  who  am  supposed  to  be 
a  free  citizen  in  a  free  country,  am  placed  in  a  posi- 
tion where  I  cannot  indulge  in  a  harmless  and  useful 
pleasure  which  concerns  no  one  but  myself,  without 
breaking  the  law.  Of  course  I  broke  the  law,  as  any- 
body but  a  fool  or  a  coward  ought  to  do.  A  few  words 


THE   HOME   OF   THE  ORANGE.  45 

in  private  to  the  waiter,  and  the  wine  appeared  on  the 
table.  Of  course,  when  I  asked  him  how  much  it  was, 
he  said  he  wouldn't  charge  for  it,  —  he  had  merely 
brought  it  "  to  oblige  me  "  ;  and  of  course  I  asked  how 
much  he  paid  for  it,  and  then  left  that  amount,  plus 
a  suitable  fee,  on  the  table.  A  resident  with  whom  I 
conversed  subsequently  on  the  subject  gave  me  some 
instances  of  capital  withheld  and  capital  withdrawn 
from  Riverside  in  consequence  of  the  prohibition  law, 
which  unfits  it  as  a  residence  for  people  who  like  to  be 
free  and  law-respecting  at  the  same  time.  A  friend  in 
Los  Angeles  had  previously  explained  to  me  how  Pasa- 
dena was  damaged  by  the  local  prohibition  law  (which  I 
believe  has  since  been  repealed),  and  gave  an  amusing 
account  of  the  visit  of  the  city  fathers  to  Mr.  Raymond, 
who  continued  to  serve  wine  to  his  tourist  and  invalid 
guests  after  the  law  had  been  passed.  Mr.  Raymond 
quietly  informed  them  that  if  they  would  not  allow  him 
to  run  a  first-class  hotel  in  their  town,  he  would  pull 
it  down  and  rebuild  it  elsewhere.  As  the  Raymond 
is  one  of  the  largest  hotels  and  chief  resorts  on  the 
Pacific  Coast,  the  city  fathers  got  alarmed,  took  their 
leave,  and  never  molested  Mr.  Raymond  again. 

One  more  instance :  Until  within  a  year  or  two  the 
owner  of  Catalina  Island  would  not  allow  any  beer 
or  liquor  to  be  sold  to  the  thousands  of  campers  on  it ; 
whereupon,  an  enterprising  man  hired  a  barge,  moored 
it  a  hundred  yards  from  the  shore,  put  canvas  over 
it,  filled  it  with  drinkables,  and  hired  a  boy  to  ferry 
his  customers  over  and  back.  Mr.  Shatto  thereupon 
refused  to  allow  the  steamer  to  land  anything  for  this 
man  on  his  pier ;  but  the  latter  got  around  this,  too,  by 
simply  having  his  beer-barrels  lowered  directly  from  the 


46  THE  HOME   OP  THE   ORANGE. 

steamer  to  his  boat.      These  are  illustrations  of  how 
prohibition  prohibits  in  California. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  stuff  your  pockets  and  valise 
full  of  oranges  on  leaving  Riverside  for  the  South ;  for 
you  will  find  just  as  good  fruit,  and  plenty  of  it,  in  San 
Diego  County.  Backing  up  to  a  station  called  Citrus, 
a  few  miles  north  of  Riverside,  you  wait  for  the  train 
which  leaves  Barstow  on  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific, 
or  Santa  F6,  Railway,  for  San  Diego,  and  which,  soon 
after  you  have  boarded  it,  enters  the  county  of  that 
name,  —  a  county  not  quite  as  large  as  San  Bernardino, 
but  still,  according  to  the  guide-book,  covering  as  much 
ground  as  Massachusetts,  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island, 
and  Delaware  combined.  It  forms  the  southwestern 
corner  of  the  United  States,  and  owes  much  of  its  local 
color  to  the  proximity  of  Mexico,  or  Lower  California,  — 
a  peninsula  which  a  large  number  of  educated  people 
in  the  East  are  in  the  habit  of  mistaking  for  "  Southern 
California."  The  branch  of  the  Santa  F6  road  referred 
to  is  known  as  the  California  Southern  Railroad.  Be- 
tween the  Bernardino  range  and  the  ocean  it  traverses 
a  region  where  the  spring  vegetation,  though  almost  as 
abundant  as  in  Los  Angeles  County,  is  not  so  luxuriant, 
owing  to  the  diminished  rainfall.  Three-fifths  or  more 
of  the  vegetation  which  carpets  the  fields  seems  to  con- 
sist of  Composite,  and  the  predominant  color  is  yellow 
—  as  if  to  hint  at  the  fact,  which  has  long  since  been 
demonstrated,  that  there  is  more  gold  to  be  got  out  of 
the  surface  of  California  soil  than  out  of  all  its  sub- 
terranean mines. 

One  never  tires  of  looking  at  these  gaudily  colored 
fields,  especially  when  bordered  by  foothills,  whose 
green  garb  is  ornamented  with  red,  yellow,  brown,  and 


THE  HOME  OF  THE   ORANGE.  47 

blue  patches,  like  a  "  crazy-quilt,"  varying  in  shade  and 
atmospheric  effect  with  the  time  of  the  day ;  or  when, 
as  on  this  route,  there  is  a  background  of  high  moun- 
tains, with  their  snow  caps  drawn  half-way  down  their 
treeless  foreheads  as  late  as  May.  The  two  chief  moun- 
tains are  too  long-drawn-out  to  be  imposing  sculptu- 
rally, but  the  great  mass  of  snow  on  them  gains  in 
charm  by  contrast  with  the  surrounding  blue  sky  and 
warm  sunshine.  The  best  point  of  view  is  from  Ferris, 
the  junction  for  the  short  branch  road  to  San  Jacinto. 

Soon  thereafter  the  Laguna  is  reached,  also  known 
as  Lake  Elsinore ;  but  if  the  tourist  expects  to  see  one 
of  those  picturesque  mountain  lakes  for  which  the 
State  is  famous,  he  will  be  grievously  disappointed. 
The  Laguna  is  a  commonplace,  dreary  old  pond,  with 
steep  hills  on  one  side  and  flat  on  the  other.  There 
are  ducks  on  it,  but  no  cover  to  "approach  them.  In 
May,  1889,  it  was  sixteen  feet  higher  than  two  years  pre- 
viously, and  it  has  a  habit  of  getting  very  low  till  the 
real  estate  on  its  banks  has  been  claimed,  whereupon  it 
roguishly  rises  and  submerges  it  for  a  few  years.  But  the 
soil  in  the  vicinity  is  credited  with  marvellous  properties. 

We  now  enter  the  region  of  Indian  missions  and 
reservations,  and  expect  to  see  some  of  the  redskins 
loitering  about  the  stations,  as  they  do  at  Yuma  and 
elsewhere ;  but  not  a  single  one  is  to  be  seen  at  any  of 
the  towns.  Those  who  make  pilgrimages  in  the  tracks 
of  novel  heroines  may  find  something  to  interest  them 
hereabouts  with  their  "  Ramona  "  as  a  guide  ;  but  other- 
wise the  region  is  dreary  and  desolate,  its  only  apparent 
attraction  being  the  snow  mountains  just  described. 
A  pleasant  change  is  afforded  by  the  passage  through 
the  Temecula  Canon,  in  which  it  is  refreshing  to  fol- 


48  THE   HOME   OF   THE   ORANGE. 

low  along  a  creek,  though  it  be  but  a  few  inches  deep 
and  two  or  three  feet  wide.  It  cools  the  air  and  lines 
the  bank  with  pretty  bushes. 

Presently  smoke-like  mists  begin  to  rise  from  the 
water,  as  if  it  were  on  fire ;  scattered  pools  with  bul- 
rushes and  flocks  of  birds,  and  the  russet  color  and  rank 
monotony  of  the  vegetation,  indicate  the  approach  to 
the  ocean.  A  cool  saline  breeze  strikes  the  cars;  the 
windows  of  the  more  sensitive  passengers  are  lowered, 
and  at  the  same  moment  the  Pacific  comes  into  sight  — 
to  many  of  the  tourists  their  first  view  of  the  king  of 
waters.  But  the  outlook  is  limited,  for  a  few  miles  at 
sea  hovers  a  fog-bank  which  looks  as  opaque  and  solid 
as  if  a  Krupp  gun  could  make  no  impression  on  it.  For 
the  rest  of  the  way  to  San  Diego  the  ocean  is  almost 
constantly  in  sight,  and  new  varieties  of  plants  and 
flowers  occupy  the  attention.  Conspicuous  among  the 
flowers  are  a  white  morning-glory,  larkspurs,  and  lupines 
in  several  colors,  the  ice-plant  with  red  flowers  and 
leaves  that  seem  to  be  covered  with  icicles,  and  a  flower- 
ing bush  which  at  a  distance  resembles  the  alpenrose. 


V. 

OVER  THE  MEXICAN  BORDER. 

SAN    DIEGO  AND  CORONADO    BEACH AN    IDEAL    CLIMATE 

AN  AKTIFICIAL    LAKE HOW   TOWNS    ARE    RAISED THE 

NATIONAL    BOUNDARY DONKEYS    VERSUS    RAILROADS 

MORE    SALOONS    THAN    HOUSES LIMES    VERSUS  LEMONS. 

ALTHOUGH  San  Diego  has  no  lack  of  hotels,  most  of 
the  tourists  cross  the  bay  which  separates  the  city  from 
the  thirteen-mile-long  peninsula  known  as  Coronado 
Beach,  and  take  up  their  abode  in  the  Coronado  hotel, 
covering  more  than  seven  acres,  —  the  largest  in  South- 
ern California,  and  second  in  size  and  elegance  only  to 
the  Del  Monte  at  Monterey.  Porpoises  sport  about  the 
ferry-boat,  almost  within  arm's  reach,  and  excite  the  appe- 
tite for  sea-fishing.  On  the  peninsula,  a  steam-dummy 
connects  with  the  ferry  and  conveys  those  passengers 
for  whom  the  coaches  are  too  slow  to  the  hotel.  Cor- 
onado affords  an  excellent  instance  of  what  can  be  done 
in  this  region  with  irrigation.  A  few  years  ago  this 
whole  peninsula  was  a  desert,  while  now  there  are  nu- 
merous villas  and  stores,  and  good  roads,  and  avenues  of 
young  trees,  which  in  a  few  years  will  afford  welcome 
shade.  The  hotel  is  surrounded  by  flower-beds  as  mon- 
strous in  proportion  as  itself,  crowded  with  enormous 
double  stocks,  petunias,  large  pansies,  marguerites,  etc., 
etc.;  and  another  superb  flower-garden  takes  up  the 

49 


50          OVER  THE  MEXICAN  BORDER. 

interior  court.  Dining-room,  parlors,  and  dance-hall 
are  sufficiently  spacious  for  all  emergencies,  and  simply 
though  tastefully  decorated.  It  may  seem  a  disadvan- 
tage that,  owing  to  the  position  of  the  dance-hall,  there 
are  few  rooms  facing  the  ocean ;  but  as  it  is  always  cool 
here,  day  and  night,  summer  and  winter,  the  site  of 
rooms  is  not  so  important  a  matter  as  on  the  Atlantic 
Coast. 

No  other  part  of  California  has  so  perfect  a  climate 
as  Coronado  and  San  Diego,  the  mean  difference  in  tem- 
perature between  summer  and  winter  being  only  12.3°, 
with  an  average  of  only  five  days  a  year  when  the  ther- 
mometer rises  above  85°;  and,  what  is  still  more  remark- 
able, only  twelve  days  a  year  when  it  rises  above  80°. 
As  only  ten  inches  of  rain  fall  in  a  year,  —  just  one  hun- 
dred inches  less  than  at  Sitka,  the  other  extremity  of  our 
Pacific  Coast,  —  and  clouds  or  fogs  of  more  than  a  few 
hours'  duration  are  rare,  it  may  be  inferred  that  the  sun 
shines  almost  perpetually,  even  in  winter.  "When  an 
invalid  who  proposes  to  make  the  Coronado  his  home 
for  awhile  reads  in  the  rules  and  regulations  pasted 
upon  his  door  that  a  single  fire  costs  a  dollar,  he  is 
relieved  to  be  told  that  cold  weather  is  as  scarce  as  fuel, 
and  that,  according  to  official  government  records,  dur- 
ing the  ten  years  from  1876  to  1885,  there  were  only  six 
days  on  which  the  temperature  fell  below  35°,  two  on 
which  it  fell  to  32°,  and  none  below  that  point !  I  had 
also  read  somewhere  that  mud  is  practically  unknown, 
since  the  little  rain  that  falls  sinks  into  the  soil  immedi- 
ately, so  that  it  is  safe  to  lie  on  the  ground  a  few  hours 
after  a  shower.  I  was  therefore  surprised,  on  picking 
up  a  local  newspaper,  to  see  an  editorial  headed  "  Too 
Much  Mud."  But  on  examination  it  proved  to  be  a 


OVER   THE  MEXICAN  BORDER.  51 

political,  not  a  meteorological  article.  On  politics  cli- 
mate has  no  effect. 

The  Coronado  beach  is  well  adapted  to  bathing, 
which  is  indulged  in  all  the  year  round,  there  being  only 
about  six  degrees'  difference  in  the  temperature  of  the 
water,  winter  and  summer.  When  the  ocean  is  too 
rough,  or  the  tide  unfavorable,  the  bay  affords  a  safe 
bathing-ground,  as  at  Fire  Island.  That  the  ocean  is 
rough  sometimes  is  evinced  by  the  sad  havoc  it  has 
made  with  the  plank  walks  between  the  hotel  and  the 
water,  and,  as  at  Coney  Island,  it  seems  to  be  encroach- 
ing on  the  hotel  premises,  and  will  soon  thunder  against 
its  very  foundations.  It  is  interesting  to  walk  along  the 
beach  towards  Point  Loma,  on  which  a  lighthouse  is 
picturesquely  situated.  Entertainment  is  afforded  on 
the  way  by  the  water-fowl,  which  stand  inside  of  the 
breakers  waiting  for  a  big  foaming  wave,  into  which  they 
plunge  headlong,  emerging  calmly  swimming  on  the 
other  side,  with  a  fish  struggling  in  the  beak.  Twenty 
miles  at  sea,  to  the  southwest,  are  the  Coronado  Islands, 
the  haunt  of  seals,  occasionally  visited  by  yachting  par- 
ties. There  is  always  something  that  appeals  to  the 
imagination  in  the  meeting  of  two  countries,  and  the 
fact  that  these  islands  belong  to  Mexico  makes  them 
doubly  interesting. 

Twice  a  week  or  oftener  opportunity  is  given  the 
guests  at  the  Coronado  to  put  foot  on  Mexican  soil.  A 
steam-dummy,  with  open  cars,  starts  from  the  hotel,  goes 
down  the  peninsula  and  up  on  the  other  side  of  the  bay, 
as  far  as  National  City,  and  then  branches  off,  first  to  the 
great  Sweet  Water  Reservoir,  and  then  to  Tia  Juana. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  a  more  delightful  excur- 
sion than  this  seventy-mile  round  trip  in  open  cars. 


52          OVER  THE  MEXICAN  BOEDER. 

The  cool,  fragrant  air  is  free  from  dust,  and  the  country 
is  so  picturesque  that  one  keeps  on  choosing  one  place 
after  another  as  an  ideal  site  for  a  cottage  and  an  orange 
grove.  On  reaching  the  Sweet  Water  Reservoir,  which 
covers  seven  hundred  acres,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
it  is  not  a  natural  lake,  so  prettily  and  cosily  does  it  rest 
at  the  foot  of  the  surrounding  hills.  Yet  here,  where 
now  the  wild  ducks  disport  themselves,  stood  several 
farmhouses  a  few  years  ago,  surrounded  by  green  fields. 
The  dam  which  created  this  lake  is  about  four  hundred 
feet  long  at  the  top  and  forty-six  feet  thick  at  the  base, 
built  of  solid  rock ;  and  the  reservoir  holds  six  billion 
gallons,  sufficient  to  supply  National  City  and  San  Diego 
with  water  for  consumption  and  irrigation  for  three 
years,  though  not  another  drop  of  rain  should  add  to  its 
volume.  A  flume  seven  miles  in  length  carries  the 
water  to  the  two  cities,  which  now,  with  abundant  and 
cheap  water,  can  amend  their  arid,  treeless  appearance, 
which  at  present  is  their  least  attractive  feature. 

After  visiting  Sweet  Water  Lake,  the  train  faces  about 
and  turns  towards  old  "  Aunt  Jane,"  or  Tia  Juana,  in 
Mexico,  passing  through  the  town  of  Chula  Vista,  a 
characteristic  Southern  California  enterprise.  A  tract 
of  five  thousand  acres  has  been  subdivided  by  a  land 
company  into  five-acre  lots,  with  avenues  and  wide 
streets  through  which  the  steam-motor  passes,  and  orna- 
mented with  thousands  of  evergreen  trees.  These  lots 
are  sold  only  to  purchasers  who  will  agree  to  build  on 
them  houses  costing  not  less  than  two  thousand  dollars 
within  six  months  from  date  of  purchase ;  and  by  way 
of  providing  models  and  starting  the  ball,  the  company 
itself  has  erected  a  number  of  cottages.  Such  an  attempt 
to  force  a  town  by  hot-house  methods  would  fail  any- 


OVER   THE  MEXICAK   BORDER.  53 

where  else :  here  it  will  probably  succeed.  Every  time 
the  train  stops,  a  handful  of  real-estate  circulars  is 
thrown  into  each  car,  setting  forth  the  unique  advan- 
tages of  that  particular  locality ;  while  the  fine  appear- 
ance of  the  residences,  with  their  lovely  gardens  and 
orchards,  contributes  its  share  towards  advertising  the 
region.  For  the  convenience  of  the  scattered  settlers, 
the  train-boy  throws  the  daily  papers  into  the  yards  from 
the  flying  train.  Near  the  boundary  line  are  some  yel- 
low pools,  in  one  of  which  a  water-snake  darted  out  its 
angry  tongue  at  a  whole  carload  of  tourists  and  then 
dived  out  of  sight.  A  few  minutes  more  and  we  were 
on  Mexican  soil;  and  though  sufficient  of  the  Mexi- 
can element  lingers  in  Southern  California  to  form  a 
gradual  transition,  the  change  is  distinctly  perceptible. 
Characteristically  enough,  the  first  thing  I  saw  after 
leaving  the  train  was  a  young  burro,  with  silky  hair  and 
no  larger  than  a  Newfoundland  dog.  In  Spanish  coun- 
tries, where  the  railroad  ceases  the  donkey  begins.  One 
side  of  Tia  Juana  is  American ;  the  other,  Mexican.  The 
dividing  line,  where  the  Estados  Unidos  meet  Mexico,  is 
occupied  by  a  restaurant  which  bears  the  modest  title  of 
"  Delmonico."  Opposite  is  a  cigar-store  which  has  the 
suggestive  sign  of  "  The  last  chance."  There  are  more 
saloons  in  Tia  Juana  than  buildings.  This  may  seem  a 
paradoxical  statment,  but  it  is  true ;  for  some  of  the 
saloons  are  in  tents,  open  in  front,  with  a  counter  in  the 
centre  and  empty  beer-barrels  for  seats.  The  sight  of 
the  town  is  the  Custom-House,  with  its  polite  but  pis- 
tolled officials,  and  the  rooms  filled  with  rifles  which  par- 
ties crossing  the  line  had  to  leave  behind  to  await  their 
return.  There  are  also  a  few  curiosity  stores,  conducted 
with  a  truly  Spanish  lack  of  enterprise.  Almost  every 


54          OVER  THE  MEXICAN  BORDER. 

tourist  wants  to  buy  a  memento  of  his  hour  in  Mexico, 
but  there  is  nothing  to  be  had  except  some  very  crude 
pottery  and  a  few  tiny,  hideous  clay  gods.  Nor  does  the 
proprietor's  knowledge  of  English  go  beyond  the  ability 
to  say  twenty  cents  or  thirty  cents. 

Looking  beyond  Tia  Juana,  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but 
lone,  low  mountains,  —  not  a  house  or  hut  anywhere,  — 
and  we  gladly  return  to  civilization  with  the  train.  On 
the  way  back,  the  conductor  pointed  out  to  me  the  place 
where  the  famous  Bonnie  Brae  lemons  are  grown.  I 
had  previously  eaten  some  at  San  Diego,  and  found  them 
large  and  juicy,  with  fewer  seeds  and  a  much  less  thick 
and  coarse  skin  than  other  California  lemons.  This 
variety  seems  destined  to  retrieve  the  reputation  of  the 
California  lemon,  which  is  not  equal  to  that  of  the 
orange,  or  of  foreign  lemons.  But  I  doubt  if  any  kind 
of  lemon  will  have  much  of  a  future  in  this  country. 
At  San  Francisco  lemons  are  not  valued  nearly  so  highly 
as  Mexican  limes,  which  are  gradually  taking  their  place. 
The  lime  has  a  tougher  skin  than  the  lemon,  and  does 
not  break  so  easily  in  the  squeezer.  In  fact,  it  can 
be  easily  squeezed  by  hand ;  and  besides,  there  is  more 
juice  in  a  small  lime  than  in  a  lemon  twice  its  size  and 
twice  or  three  times  its  cost.  Its  taste,  after  a  few 
trials,  is  more  agreeable  and  piquant  than  that  of  any 
lemon,  and  I  believe  that  Eastern  cities  will  soon  follow 
the  lead  of  San  Francisco  in  this  matter.  The  lemon- 
ade of  the  future  will  be  made  of  limes. 


VI. 
SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

FROM    SAN    DIEGO    TO     LOS    ANGELES ALONG    THE    COAST  — 

A    ROMANTIC    SPOT LOST    IN    A    MUSTARD    FIELD SAN 

PEDRO  —  FLOATING  HIGHLANDS SUN  AND  OCEAN  BATHS 

IN     WINTER AVALON    VILLAGE THE    LUXURY    OF    EX- 
ISTENCE  FLOWERS,    HUMMING-BIRDS,    AND     POISON    IVY 

RATTLESNAKES  HUNTING      WILD       GOATS  INDIAN 

RELICS ABALONE  SHELLS  AND   THEIR  HUNTERS  —  SPORT 

FOR    FISHERMEN — A     SUBMARINE     GARDEN THE     SEALS 

AT    HOME. 

EASTERN  people  have  no  idea  how  fast  things  grow 
in  California.  Everybody,  of  course,  has  heard  the 
story  of  the  farmer  who  in  the  morning  planted  water- 
melon seeds  in  his  field,  and  in  the  evening  found  that 
the  vine  had  grown  to  his  kitchen  door  and  deposited 
a  ripe  melon  on  the  steps.  But  this  is  nothing  com- 
pared with  the  way  in  which  the  cities  grow.  Thus,  on 
page  216  of  Drs.  Lindley  and  Widney's  valuable  work 
on  "  California  of  the  South,"  we  read  of  "  San  Diego's 
fifteen  thousand  inhabitants,"  while  on  page  218  (and 
it  surely  cannot  have  taken  more  than  a  day  or  two  to 
write  these  two  pages)  they  say  that  "  San  Diego  is 
growing  with  most  wonderful  rapidity.  Its  population 
is  doubtless  twenty-five  thousand."  Most  wonderful  in- 
deed !  San  Diego  did  seem  quite  a  lively  place  when  I 

55 


56  SANTA  CATALINA   ISLAND. 

saw  it,  although  this  may  have  been  partly  attributable 
to  its  being  the  headquarters  of  the  miners  going  to  the 
Santa  Clara  mines  in  Lower  California.  'Tis  an  ill 
wind,  etc. ;  and  the  losses  of  these  duped  miners  were 
the  gain  of  the  San  Diego  merchants,  who  sold  almost 
a  hundred  thousand  dollars'  worth  of  victuals  and  tools 
to  the  gold-hunters.  The  temptation  to  follow  the  lat- 
ter and  get  a  glimpse  of  a  genuine  California  mining- 
camp  was  great ;  but  on  hearing  of  the  hardships  to  be 
endured,  of  the  two  hundred  dollars'  duty  laid  by  the 
Mexican  government  on  a  single  wagon  and  team  cross- 
ing the  border,'  and  the  taxes  on  provisions  equal  to 
their  full  value,  which  raised  the  cost  of  food  in  camp 
to  figures  considered  fabulous  even  by  miners  accus- 
tomed to  starvation  prices, — not  to  mention  the  trop- 
ical rains  just  then  prevalent,  which  made  tenting  an  in- 
vitation to  catarrh,  rheumatism,  and  pneumonia,  —  I 
concluded  to  move  northward  sixty  miles  or  so,  and 
spend  a  few  weeks  instead  on  Catalina  Island. 

Before  leaving  the  Coronado  I  had  an  opportunity  to 
note  a  curious  way  of  settling  urban  questions  in  Cali- 
fornia. It  had  long  been  in  dispute  whether  or  not 
Coronado  Beach  belonged  to  San  Diego,  so  it  was  deter- 
mined to  settle  the  matter  on  election  day.  There  being 
a  law  that  no  liquor  may  be  sold  in  San  Diego  on  an 
election  day,  the  barkeeper  at  the  Coronado  hotel  was 
instructed  to  keep  open,  for  which  he  was  promptly 
arrested.  This  was  to  compel  the  courts  to  decide  the 
question  at  issue.  What  the  decision  was,  I  do  not 
know,  as  I  left  the  next  morning.  Retracing  my  steps 
as  far  as  Oceanside,  I  took  the  California  Central  direct 
back  to  Los  Angeles.  This  road  continues  to  skirt  the 
ocean  as  far  as  San-Juan-by-the-Sea  (a  few  miles  from 


SANTA   CATALINA   ISLAND.  57 

the  famous  San  Juan  Capistrano  Mission),  where  the 
tourist  bids  good-by  to  the  Pacific,  not  to  see  it  again  till 
he  reaches  San  Francisco,  unless  he  takes  a  branch  road 
to  one  of  the  numerous  seaside  resorts  of  Los  Angeles 
or  to  Santa  Barbara. 

San-Juan-by-the-Sea  was  called  by  Dana,  in  his  "  Two 
Years  before  the  Mast,"  "  the  only  romantic  spot  in  Cal- 
ifornia," which  is  probably  the  most  absurd  statement 
regarding  California  that  has  ever  got  into  print.  But 
it  certainly  is  one  of  the  most  charming  points  on  the 
coast  for  those  who  love  solitude,  and  all  tourists  ought 
to  stop  over  at  least  between  two  trains  and  see  it. 
If  they  decide  to  spend  the  night  at  the  "hotel,"  I 
wish  them  better  luck  than  befell  me.  Early  in  the 
morning,  having  paid  the  (really)  big  sum  of  one  dollar 
for  supper,  lodging,  and  breakfast,  I  went  down  to  the 
beach,  about  half  a  mile  from  the  station,  across  an  im- 
mense field  of  wild  mustard,  buried  completely  in  a  sea 
of  fragrant  yellow  flowers  waving  over  my  head,  and 
then  had  to  cross  a  lively  little  creek  on  a  narrow  plank, 
—  a  creek  which  enjoys  the  satisfaction,  rare  in  this 
region,  of  reaching  the  ocean  without  being  tapped,  or 
absorbed  by  the  thirsty  sun.  The  view  from  its  mouth 
contrasts  delightfully  with  the  uninterrupted,  flat  sandy 
beach  all  the  way  up  from  San  Diego.  A  high,  precipi- 
tous rocky  shore  rises  abruptly,  and  presents  itself  as  a 
bulwark  against  the  restless  waves.  It  leads  up  to  hills 
from  which  fine  views  may  be  enjoyed,  and  which  give 
room  for  daily  varied  rambles  which  one  misses  so  much 
at  a  flat  place  like  Coronado  Beach.  As  there  is  a  fine 
beach  a  short  distance  below,  it  would  be  a  splendid 
place  for  a  hotel,  and  is  already  much  frequented  in 
midsummer  by  campers.  When  I  was  there,  a  deserted 


58  SANTA  CATALINA   ISLAND. 

hut  was  the  only  visible  evidence  of  human  agency, 
and  the  solitude  was  emphasized  by  four  monstrous 
pelicans  sitting  motionless  and  majestic  on  an  isolated 
rock  half  a  mile  at  sea.  Below  the  precipice,  where 
the  waves  in  low  water  tumble  gently  over  the  rocky 
debris  jutting  far  out  into  the  sea,  may  be  found  quanti- 
ties of  shells,  not  dead  and  deserted  specimens  lying 
bleaching  on  the  beach,  but  shells  and  cockles  alive  and 
wide  awake,  and  moving  about  like  little  pagodas  with 
wheels  and  clockwork. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  station  I  cut  off  one  of  the  tall- 
est mustard  plants,  —  bushes  they  might  well  be  called,  so 
thick  and  tough  are  the  stems  at  the  base,  —  and  asked 
the  station  master  how  high  he  thought  it  was.  He  meas- 
ured it  and  found  it  eleven  feet  in  height !  Then  for 
the  first  time  I  felt  convinced  that  the  narrative  of  an 
Anaheimer,  who  told  me  how  thirty  years  ago  he  once 
got  lost  on  horseback  in  a  wild-mustard  field  on  the  fertile 
soil  near  where  Fullerton  now  stands,  was  not  a  "  Cali- 
fornia story."  To-day  many  of  these  fields  of  wild 
mustard  are  mowed  down,  yielding  a  crop  which  is  the 
more  profitable  as  there  are  no  expenses  for  ploughing 
and  sowing.  I  cannot  see  why  there  should  not  also  be 
money  in  the  castor  bean,  which,  elsewhere  cultivated 
in  gardens  as  an  ornamental  shrub,  is  here  a  weedy  nui- 
sance hard  to  exterminate  when  it  once  gains  a  foothold. 
I  have  seen  it  grow  as  high  as  a  second-story  window 
in  Los  Angeles,  side  by  side  with  a  fuchsia  tree,  so 
to  speak,  still  higher;  while  roses  often  cover  a  whole 
house,  roof  and  all,  and  would  aspire  to  the  moon  if 
there  was  a  connecting  link. 

To  reach  Catalina  Island  we  take  the  train  at  Los 
Angeles  for  its  old  harbor  town,  San  Pedro,  whence  a 


SANTA  CATALINA   ISLAND.  59 

steamer  makes  trips  to  the  island  three  times  a  week. 
San  Pedro  is  considered  good  fishing-ground,  has  nu- 
merous duck-ponds  in  the  vicinity,  and  appears  to  be 
the  headquarters  of  all  the  sea-gulls  on  the  Pacific,  the 
beach  being  completely  fringed  by  them  at  times.  The 
chief  article  of  import  seems  to  be  timber,  the  wharves 
being  covered  with  acres  of  boards  and  planks,  brought 
from  Humboldt  County  and  from  Oregon  and  Puget 
Sound.  A  part  of  the  town  lies  in  a  hollow  which 
forms  a  complete  kettle,  and  must  be  an  ideal  breeding- 
place  for  typhoid  fever.  Hotel  accommodations  are 
very  primitive,  but  the  Southern  Pacific  is  completing 
a  hotel  near  the  lighthouse,  where  the  sea-breezes  can 
never  fail.  The  little  steamer  Hermosa,  specially  built 
for  the  traffic  between  San  Pedro  and  Catalina,  is  new 
and  comfortable,  but  has  the  great  fault  of  rolling  on 
the  slightest  provocation.  However,  the  distance  is  but 
twenty  miles,  so  that  even  those  inclined  to  seasickness 
need  not  dread  the  passage.  Santa  Catalina  Island  is 
the  second  in  size  and  the  most  interesting  of  the  large 
number  of  islands  which  lie  along  the  coast  of  Cali- 
fornia, beginning  with  the  Coronado  group,  just  below 
San  Diego,  and  ending  with  Santa  Cruz  and  Santa 
Rosa,  off  Santa  Barbara.  As  it  is  the  only  one  which 
has  steam  connection  with  the  mainland,  it  has  for 
many  years  been  visited  every  summer  by  thousands  of 
campers,  and  the  hotel  erected  there  lately  has  added 
to  its  popularity,  although  for  sanitary  and  scenic  rea- 
sons the  site  chosen  for  it  is  not  the  best  that  could 
have  been  found.  The  island  is  visible  from  the  main- 
land all  along  Los  Angeles  County,  even  far  in  the 
interior,  as  it  has  mountains  which  rise  to  a  height  of 
about  three  thousand  feet.  Indeed,  as  the  boat  ap- 


60  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

preaches,  we  see  that  it  consists  entirely  of  mountains, 
being  a  sort  of  floating  highlands,  like  a  section  of  the 
Coast  Range  rising  abruptly  out  of  the  ocean,  without 
any  gradual  slopes  or  foothills  ;  presenting  a  solid  front 
of  perpendicular  rocks  except  in  a  few  places  where  the 
wall  is  broken  by  a  little  cove  or  harbor,  with  a  pebbly 
beach,  as  at  Avalon,  where  the  hotel  stands.  A  study 
of  the  map  of  Southern  California  leaves  no  doubt  in  the 
mind  that  these  islands  at  one  time  actually  did  form 
a  part  of  the  Coast  Range,  being  connected  with  each 
other  and  constituting  a  peninsula  extending  from  Point 
Conception  to  below  Coronado,  with  a  wide  channel  or 
sound  between  (like  that  which  now  extends  for  about 
a  thousand  miles  from  Olympia  to  Sitka),  and  navigated 
by  the  Pineugnas  Indians,  who  in  the  time  of  the  early 
Spanish  voyagers  inhabited  Catalina  Island,  and  were 
noted  for  their  fine  physique  and  skill  in  shipbuilding. 
Though  they  are  now  widely  separated  and  scattered, 
these  Channel  Islands  continue  to  affect  the  climate  of 
Southern  California  by  breaking  the  force  of  the  wild 
Pacific  waves  and  winds. 

This  fact  can  be  vividly  realized  by  climbing  the  hills 
on  Catalina  till  the  Pacific  is  sighted,  dashing  its  huge 
billows  against  the  naked  rocks  that  rise  perpendicularly 
to  two  thousand  feet  or  more  above  it,  the  home  of 
eagles  that  build  their  nests  in  these  inaccessible  heights, 
—  monstrous  birds,  measuring  sometimes  twelve  feet 
from  wing  to  wing.  In  striking  contrast  to  this  turbu- 
lence on  the  west  side  is  the  calm  of  the  eastern  side, 
which  is  hardly  ever  disturbed,  even  in  stormy  weather. 
Here  the  campers  and  hotel  guests  bathe  in  the  bay 
every  day  in  the  year,  the  temperature  of  the  sea-water 
in  August  being  about  66°,  and  only  four  degrees  lower 


SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND.  61 

in  midwinter ;  while  in  Rhode  Island,  for  example,  the 
difference  between  midwinter  and  midsummer  tempera- 
ture is  about  35° !  The  Kuro  Siwo,  or  Japan  cur- 
rent, three  to  four  hundred  miles  in  width,  which 
is  deflected  by  the  Aleutian  Islands  southward  along 
the  coast  of  Washington  and  Oregon,  becomes  so  far 
cooled  off  by  the  time  it  reaches  San  Francisco  as  to 
make  sea-bathing  in  that  neighborhood  unpleasant  even 
in  summer.  But  this  current  is  deflected  again  by  Point 
Conception ;  and  between  the  Channel  Islands  and  the 
mainland  south  of  this  cape  there  is  a  return  ocean  cur- 
rent from  the  south,  which  partly  accounts  for  the 
higher  temperature  of  the  water  at  Catalina,  as  well  as 
along  the  main  shore  of  Southern  California. 

The  temperature  of  the  air  on  Catalina  Island  hardly 
ever  rises  above  85°,  and,  thanks  to  the  twenty  miles  of 
water  which  separate  it  from  the  mainland,  it  is  never 
visited  by  the  hot,  parching  desert  winds.  Yet,  though 
thus  surrounded  by  a  vaporous  sea,  fog  is  almost  un- 
known, being  shut  out  by  the  mountains,  and,  what  is 
stranger  still,  the  air  is  said  to  be  drier  than  on  shore. 
With  such  conditions  and  with  constant  sea-breezes  and 
an  immunity  from  dust  as  complete  as  on  shipboard,  it 
is  no  wonder  that  Catalina  is  beginning  to  be  looked 
upon  as  standing  to  Southern  California  in  the  same 
relation  as  Southern  California  does  towards  other 
States.  I  met  several  invalids. afflicted  with  rheumatic 
or  lung  troubles  who  had  failed  to  find  relief  at  Los 
Angeles  or  Santa  Barbara,  but  found  it  at  once  on  Cat- 
alina Island ;  and  convalescents  make  more  rapid  recov- 
ery there  than  elsewhere.  He  must  be  fastidious  in- 
deed who  is  not  satisfied  with  the  climatic  conditions  of 
this  island,  and  notwithstanding  its  mountainous  struc- 


62  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

ture,  I  am  convinced  that  before  the  end  of  another 
decade  it  will  be  covered  with  hundreds  of  handsome 
cottages  and  several  hotels  and  supply  villages.  There 
is  room  for  a  considerable  number  of  health  and  pleas- 
ure seekers ;  for  the  island  is  about  twenty-three  miles 
long,  and  from  one  to  seven  wide. 

A  few  miles  from  its  northern  end,  Catalina  presents 
a  curious  contrast  to  its  usual  appearance.  Here  the 
mountains  terminate  abruptly,  and  the  island  becomes 
reduced  to  a  narrow  isthmus,  about  half  a  mile  wide,  on 
one  side  of  which  are  the  turbulent  Pacific  breakers,  on 
the  other  the  calm  sound.  Here  are  the  ruins  of  gov- 
ernment barracks,  erected  during  the  Civil  War  and 
now  deserted,  but  no  other  signs  of  human  habitation, 
though  a  hotel  will  doubtless  be  erected  before  long. 
The  only  way  of  reaching  this  interesting  point  is  by 
an  occasional  excursion  on  a  little  tug-boat  stationed  at 
Avalon,  the  only  village  on  the  island  at  present.  It 
consists  of  the  Hotel  Metropole  (what  a  name  for  a 
hotel  in  such  a  position !)  and  a  row  of  shanties,  half 
wood  and  half  canvas,  in  which  bread  and  provisions 
and  shells  can  be  obtained.  The  hotel  is  built  on  the 
site  of  an  old  Indian  burial  ground,  which  is  not  a 
pleasant  thought  to  those  who  know  that  invisible 
ghosts  in  the  shape  of  typhoid-fever  germs  have  been 
exhumed  from  European  graveyards  which  had  been 
undisturbed  for  several  hundred  years.  For  this  and 
other  reasons  the  hotel  ought  to  be  removed  part  way 
up  the  hill,  just  south  of  Avalon,  whence  a  fine  view  of 
the  island  and  the  sound  can  be  obtained. 

But  do  not  fancy  that  from  the  top  of  this  hill,  or  the 
higher  one  to  which  it  leads,  you  will  catch  sight  of  the 
illimitable  Pacific.  The  higher  you  climb,  the  higher  do 


SANTA  CATALINA   ISLAND.  63 

the  mountains,  that  were  previously  hidden  from  sight 
by  the  lower  intervening  crests,  loom  up  and  shut  out 
the  view  westward.  But  these  curved  ridges,  rising  one 
behind  the  other,  like  seats  in  a  cyclopean  amphitheatre, 
are  in  themselves  a  fascinating  sight,  especially  in 
spring,  when  the  lull-sides  are  green  with  high  grass  and 
abundant  shrubbery.  Looking  down  from  this  hill,  we 
can  see  the  large  fish  swimming  about  in  the  crystalline 
water,  several  hundred  feet  below  us.  To  lie  here  on 
the  grass,  in  the  balmy  sunshine,  taking  in  the  view  and 
inhaling  the  ocean  breeze,  mingled  with  the  floral  per- 
fumes that  rise  around  you,  is  the  very  luxury  of  exist- 
ence, and  every  deep  draught  of  this  air  is  a  day  added 
to  one's  life.  Thanks  to  the  breeze,  no  shade  is  needed, 
and  thus  all  the  healing  virtues  of  the  sun's  rays  can  be 
utilized. 

Should  the  labor  of  climbing  this  steep  hill  be 
dreaded,  equally  romantic  spots  may  be  found  by  fol- 
lowing up  the  canon  or  gulch  which  leads  from  the 
hotel  into  the  midst  of  the  hills  by  a  gradual  but  steady 
ascent.  The  road  follows  a  dry  brook-bed,  which  prob- 
ably once  in  a  while  becomes  a  torrent,  though  heavy 
rains  are  rare  here,  even  during  the  "rainy  season." 
An  endless  variety  of  shrubs  and  flowers  lines  this  road, 
becoming  more  rarely  beautiful  in  color  and  shape  the 
higher  we  rise.  Climbing  up  one  of  the  side  gulches,  I 
was  frequently  obliged  to  cut  my  way  with  my  cane 
through  bowers  most  gracefully  built  by  the  poison  ivy 
(or  oak),  which  is  so  abundant  throughout  California, 
afflicting  some  people,  if  they  only  pass  near  it,  with  a 
painful  swelling  of  the  face, 'while  to  others  it  is  as 
harmless  as  is  real  oak  or  ivy.  From  one  of  these  lovely 
bowers  a  humming-bird  arose  and  darted  up  into  the  air 


64  SANTA   CATALINA   ISLAND. 

as  fast  and  straight  as  a  rocket,  till  almost  out  of  sight ; 
then  down  again  like  a  lump  of  lead ;  then  circling  in 
a  wide  curve  about  me,  humming  all  the  time  like  a 
spinning-wheel.  To  an  observer  who  stands  perfectly 
motionless,  these  birds  afford  no  end  of  amusement  by 
their  wonderful  swiftness  and  curious  caprices.  Often, 
when  I  watered  my  flowers  during  the  winter,  one  of 
them  would  hover  over  the  stream  from  the  hose,  take 
a  foot-bath  for  a  minute,  then  alight  on  an  orange-tree 
for  a  second,  and  return  to  the  sport  again  and  again. 
They  are  very  abundant  in  California,  these  butterflies 
among  birds,  as  if  to  atone  for  the  rarity  of  real  butter- 
flies, which  is  one  of  the  most  curious  defects  of  this 
State ;  for  one  would  think  that  a  country  so  crowded 
with  wild  flowers  would  be  the  very  paradise  of  butter- 
flies. Another  kind  of  bird  very  abundant  on  Catalina 
Island  is  the  quail,  which,  even  without  the  advantage 
of  color,  vies  with  the  humming-bird  in  beauty.  Being 
seldom  hunted,  the  quail  are  much  tamer  than  on  the 
mainland.  One  couple  had  a  nest  in  a  cactus  bush  not 
more  than  a  hundred  yards  behind  the  hotel,  where  they 
remained  undisturbed  till  a  heartless  young  idiot  from 
Los  Angeles  killed  them  with  his  shotgun.  Walking 
up  the  canon,  one  or  two  pairs  repeatedly  ran  along 
leisurely  in  the  middle  of  the  roadbed,  not  a  hundred 
feet  ahead  of  me.  At  other  times  I  came  within  a  few 
yards  of  them  before  they  saw  me,  for  the  ground  in 
many  places  is  covered  with  a  velvety  kind  of  grass, 
noiseless  and  delightful  to  walk  upon.  Far  up  the 
gradually  narrowing  gulches  we  come  upon  patches  of 
lovely  maiden-hair  and  other  ferns,  guiding  us  to  tiny 
brooklets  of  clear  cool  water.  Water  is  not  abundant 
on  the  island  so  far  as  explored,  and  last  summer  only 


SANTA   CATALINA   ISLAND.  65 

one  of  the  springs  near  Avalon  —  that  which  supplier 
the  village  pipes  —  was  alive.  But  it  would  be  easy  to 
secure  all  the  water  desired  by  damming  up  one  of  the 
gulches. 

The  most  serious  drawback  to  the  delightful  rambles 
on  Catalina  Island  is  that  one  always  has  to  keep  an  eye 
on  the  possibility  of  running  across  a  "  rattler."  The  first 
evening  of  my  two  weeks'  sojourn  I  was  sitting  on  the 
hotel  piazza,  drinking  in  the  salubrious  night  air,  when 
the  conversation  of  a  group  of  men  attracted  my  atten- 
tion. Two  of  them  were  representatives  of  an  English 
syndicate  who  were  trying  to  buy  the  island,  and  have 
since  succeeded,  I  believe,  in  bagging  it  for  six  hundred 
thousand  dollars.  The  reason  why  one  of  these  ubiqui- 
tous English  syndicates  (who  seem  to  "want  the  earth" 
at  present)  coveted  Catalina  Island,  is,  according  to  the 
Los  Angeles  papers,  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  it 
abounds  in  silver  ore,  which,  though  not  rich  enough  to 
be  worked  in  this  country,  where  labor  is  so  expensive, 
might  be  carried  as  ballast  in  vessels  returning  to 
England,  and  profitably  reduced  to  metal  there.  The 
agents  were  interviewing  a  resident  as  to  the  advantages 
and  disadvantages  of  the  island,  and  one  of  them,  inter 
alia,  asked  about  snakes.  "  Not  a  snake  on  the  island," 
was  the  answer.  This  was  such  curious  and  interest- 
ing information  that  I  jotted  it  down  in  my  notebook. 
Next  morning  after  breakfast  I  took  a  walk  up  one  of 
the  hills,  and  just  after  passing  a  little  wooden  build- 
ing, I  came  across  a  young  Englishman  in  a  white 
flannel  suit,  who  was  cautiously  prying  along  the  road 
on  both  sides.  "  Lost  anything  ?  "  I  asked.  "  No,"  was 
the  reply;  "I  am  looking  for  rattlesnakes.  Killed  one  a 
few  days  ago  right  here,  and  don't  like  them  quite  so 


66  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

near  my  house."  He  was  greatly  amused  when  I  told 
him  how  his  countrymen  had  been  "stuffed"  at  the  hotel 
on  the  preceding  evening.  "  The  island  swarms  with 
snakes,"  he  said.  "  They  have  never  been  interfered 
with,  and  have  been  allowed  to  multiply  for  several  cen- 
turies, until  they  have  become  as  abundant  as  ground- 
squirrels.  Only  the  other  day  a  party  moved  their  tent 
away  from  a  spot  over  on  that  hill  because  a  snake 
family  had  established  a  previous  claim  on  the  neigh- 
borhood. However,  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  walking 
along  the  canon  or  up  the  grassy  sides  of  the  hills,  for 
they  avoid  the  grass  and  haunt  only  the  naked  rocky 
hill-sides,  exposed  to  the  full  glare  of  the  sun,  where 
they  can  be  easily  seen." 

I  soon  found  that  the  simplest  way  to  steer  clear  of 
rattlers  is  to  hunt  for  them.  I  spent  several  hours  look- 
ing for  them  in  the  most  likely  places,  because  I  wanted 
to  study  the  nature  of  the  beast  and  get  a  few  rattles, 
but  not  one  did  I  see.  There  is  no  doubt,  however, 
that  they  exist  in  large  numbers,  and  the  sooner  they 
are  exterminated,  the  better  for  the  future  prospects  of 
the  island  as  an  all-the-year-round  health  resort.  How- 
ever, it  must  be  said  that  there  are  few  instances  of  men 
having  been  killed  by  snakes  in  California,  while  the 
dreaded  scorpions,  centipedes,  and  tarantulas  are  hardly 
more  dangerous  than  hornets.  According  to  Dr.  Weir 
Mitchell,  who  has  made  a  special  study  of  this  subject, 
a  rattlesnake  bite  in  the  extremities  rarely  causes  death 
in  this  country,  and  he  has  known  of  nine  dogs  being 
bitten  by  as  many  different  snakes,  and  but  two  died. 
He  considers  them  a  much-maligned  animal,  and  says 
they  have  always  seemed  to  him  averse  to  striking. 
This  agrees  with  what  the  late  T.  S.  Van  Dyke  says  in 


SANTA   CATALINA  ISLAND.  67 

his  "  Southern  California  " :  "  At  least  a  dozen  times  I 
have  either  been  about  to  step  directly  on  one,  or  have 
stepped  over  it,  or  else  have  set  my  foot  directly  beside 
it.  In  no  case  have  I  been  struck  at  by  them,  though  I 
have  made  them  strike  very  savagely  at  a  stick."  "  Hunt- 
ers take  no  precautions  against  them,  and  children  run 
bare-legged  through  the  bush  everywhere  without  think- 
ing of  them."  Still,  the  nervous  might  carry  in  their 
pocket  some  permanganate  of  potash,  which  Dr.  Mitchell 
considers  the  most  potent  external  antidote,  that  has 
saved  many  lives. 

It  might  be  worth  while  to  introduce  on  Catalina 
Island  some  of  the  "  road-runners  "  so  common  on  the 
mainland,  —  a  bird  looking  somewhat  like  a  large  pheas- 
ant, which  runs  along  the  roads,  seldom  rises  on  its 
wings,  and  is  said  to  live  on  snakes,  lizards,  centipedes, 
and  similar  delicacies,  and  is  nevertheless  pronounced  a 
good  gastronomic  morsel  by  those  who  have  the  courage 
to  eat  it.  It  might  also  be  good  business  policy  to 
import  a  few  of  the  Arizona  cowboys,  who,  after  making 
the  rattlers  strike,  catch  them  by  the  tail  and  swing 
them  like  a  whip  till  the  head  flies  off.  But  cowboys  are 
objectionable  neighbors  on  other  grounds,  and  it  would 
be  better,  all  things  considered,  to  give  the  freedom  of 
the  village  to  a  dozen  pigs,  who  would  soon  make  rat- 
tlers scarce  about  camp,  and  who  might  be  allowed  to 
run  wild  and  clean  out  the  whole  island. 

There  would  be  a  precedent  for  this  in  the  wild  goats 
which  were  turned  loose  by  Vancouver  on  this  and 
other  Pacific  islands,  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  which 
have  now  multiplied  to  thousands.  These  wild  goats 
form  one  of  the  most  characteristic  attractions  of  Cata- 
lina. They  are  hunted  on  horseback,  and  are  often  seen 


68  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

in  large  herds,  feeding  along  the  hill-sides.  It  is  not 
very  easy  to  get  near  enough  for  a  shot,  but  still  one  or 
two  are  generally  brought  back  as  the  result  of  a  morn- 
ing's ride ;  and  the  next  day  there  is  always  "  venison 
with  jelly  "  on  the  hotel  bill  of  fare.  If  it  were  a  little 
more  juicy  and  less  insipid  in  taste  (the  young  ones  only 
are  eaten),  it  might  deserve  that  name.  Barring  an 
occasional  hunt,  these  wild  goats  lead  an  ideal  life, 
which  the  happiest  mortal  must  envy  them,  —  no  wild 
beasts  to  prey  on  them,  and  plenty  of  grass-grown  hill- 
sides to  climb  and  browse  upon.  They  are  more  fortu- 
nate than  their  cousins,  the  wild  goats  and  half-wild 
sheep  on  the  neighboring  island  of  San  Clemente,  which, 
though  almost  as  large  as  Catalina,  is  more  barren,  and 
is  said  to  have  no  water  at  all  except  the  heavy  morning 
dews  which  the  animals  sip  in  with  their  breakfast  of 
wild  clover.  Imagine  a  goat  living  on  dew-drops  and 
clover  leaves !  What  becomes  of  Puck  and  the  tomato- 
can  theory  ? 

To  those  who  find  goat-hunting  on  horseback  too 
arduous  and  risky  a  sport,  Catalina  offers  a  variety  of 
entertainments  in  its  bathing  facilities  and  the  rare 
opportunities  for  botanic,  mineralogic,  and  archseologic 
research,  besides  fishing,  watching  the  pelicans  and  fly- 
ing-fish, and  visiting  the  seal  rocks.  Bathing  in  the 
placid  bay  lacks  the  excitement  given  by  plunges  into 
foaming  breakers,  and  it  must  be  admitted  that  small 
pebbles  do  not  make  as  agreeable  a  beach  as  sand.  Yet 
those  who  can  swim  will  enjoy  a  bath  here  as  much  as 
anywhere.  There  is  a  drawback  in  the  thought  that 
only  sixty  miles  to  the  south,  at  San  Diego,  a  young 
man,  while  in  bathing  a  few  years  ago,  suddenly  disap- 
peared, being  doubtless  carried  off  by  a  shark.  How- 


SANTA   CATALINA    ISLAND.  69 

ever,  no  shark  has  ever  been  known  to  eat  more  than 
one  man  at  a  time,  so  that  if  several  go  in  together,  each 
one  has  a  fair  chance  of  escape.  Small  sharks  are  occa- 
sionally seen  in  the  bay  of  Avalon,  but  no  accident  has 
ever  happened.  Bathers  are  occasionally  stung  by  a 
kind  of  animal  called  a  stingaree,  which  causes  a  wound 
that  must  be  cauterized,  and  is  said  to  be  almost  as  dan- 
gerous as  a  rattlesnake  bite.  But  then  we  cannot 
expect  to  have  everything  arranged  to  suit  us. 

The  charms  of  Catalina's  flowers  to  lovers  of  beauty 
and  botany  I  have  already  referred  to,  but  I  must  not 
forget  to  mention  that  the  thrill  of  delight  on  coming 
across  the  first  Mariposa  lily  will  mark  an  epoch  in  their 
experience.  Amateur  mineralogists  may  go  prospecting 
for  silver  ore.  In  some  places  they  will  find  patches  of 
coal-black  soil,  besides  igneous  rocks  in  abundance,  and 
other  evidences  of  former  volcanic  agency.  But  the 
greatest  treat  awaits  the  archaeologist,  who  may  dig  in 
the  site  of  the  graveyards,  or  the  former  village,  part 
way  up  the  main  canon,  for  Indian  relics.  The  objects 
most  frequently  found  are  the  pestles  and  mortars  of 
various  sizes,  in  which  the  squaws  ground  their  grain 
and  acorns,  and  strings  of  shells.  These  shells  were 
used  by  the  Indians  as  money,  and  Catalina  Island 
was  the  place  where  most  of  them  were  found.  The 
Yankee,  who  has  succeeded  the  Indian  at  Avalon,  still 
makes  -money  out  of  these  shells.  There  are  a  number 
of  varieties  strewn  along  the  beach ;  but  the  largest  and 
most  beautiful  is  the  abalone  shell,  the  inner  surface  of 
which  is  often  equal  to  the  finest  mother-of-pearl,  while 
the  outer  surface  can  be  made  equally  attractive  by 
persistent  polishing.  The  professional  abalone-hunters, 
who  have  their  stores  at  Avalon  and  ship  large  quan- 


70  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

titles  to  the  East,  to  be  made  into  buttons,  jealous  of 
competition,  will  tell  you  unblushingly  in  spring  that 
these  animals  are  only  caught  in  the  winter ;  but  after 
a  low  tide  you  may  see  them  rowing  in  with  a  whole 
boat-load  of  them.  It  is  interesting  to  watch  these  men 
at  work.  One  of  them  plies  the  oars,  and  the  other  has 
a  long  pole  to  stick  under  the  unsuspecting  abalone, 
which  he  twists  off  the  rock  and  hauls  in ;  whereupon  the 
search  for  another  begins.  The  Californians  seem  to 
consider  the  abalone  possibly  useful  as  well  as  ornamen- 
tal ;  for  there  is  a  tradition  (probably  manufactured  by 
an  ingenious  Catalinian)  that  a  Chinaman,  one  day 
while  bathing,  put  his  foot  under  one  of  these  shells, 
and  was  held  till  miserably  drowned  by  the  returning 
tide.  If  this  story  becomes  known  at  Sacramento,  a 
law  will  probably  be  passed  forbidding  abalone-fishing. 
Besides  serving  as  a  trap  for  Mongolians,  the  abalone 
has  also  a  gastronomic  use ;  for  it  makes  the  finest  soup 
I  have  ever  eaten,  —  superior  to  the  best  terrapin. 

Of  the  fish  which  abound  here  the  best  flavored  are 
the  large  sardines,  of  which  a  whole  boat-load  is  easily 
caught  with  one  haul  of  the  net.  There  are  literally 
miles  and  millions  of  them  along  the  coast,  and  it  would 
doubtless  be  a  profitable  industry  to  can  them,  although 
the  oil  would  have  to  be  imported,  for  California  olive 
oil  is  too  much  in  demand  and  too  expensive  to  be  used 
for  such  a  purpose.  But  there  is  a  serious  objection  to 
these  sardines,  —  they  spoil  the  fishing ;  for  the  large 
fish  have  their  Sardinian  breakfast  so  handy  that  they 
refuse  to  bite  unless  tempted  by  a  special  delicacy,  such 
as  a  piece  of  lobster.  In  April  even  this  ruse  often  fails ; 
for  then  the  water  is  filled  with  spawn,  and  when  a  fish 
has  spawn  to  eat,  he  turns  up  his  nose  even  at  lobster. 


SANTA   CATALINA   ISLAND.  71 

To  one  solely  intent  on  catching  the  fish,  it  must  be  most 
provoking  to  see  hundreds  of  them,  of  all  sizes,  swim- 
ming about  his  tempting  crawfish  bait  without  paying 
any  more  attention  to  it  than  if  it  were  a  pebble. 

But  the  lover  of  nature  can  here  enjoy  scenes  which 
make  him  oblivious  of  the  ignoble  excitement  of  catch- 
ing fish.  Catalina  Island  has  one  of  the  most  enchant- 
ing salt-water  aquariums  in  the  world.  Row  out  into 
the  ocean  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  you  will  get  a 
glimpse  of  a  submarine  garden  more  wonderful  than 
anything  to  be  seen  on  shore.  The  water  is  calm  and 
as  clear  as  crystal,  showing  objects  fifty  or  seventy  feet 
below  as  distinctly  as  if  you  could  touch  them.  Kelp, 
anemones,  and  seaweeds,  green,  purple,  and  yellowish, 
and  of  various  forms,  wave  about  slowly  in  the  current. 
Abalone  shells  cling  to  the  rocks,  and  jelly-fish  float 
along,  expanding  and  contracting  rythmically.  The 
waving  seaweeds  are  covered  everywhere  with  a  bluish 
mass  looking  like  jelly.  It  is  the  spawn,  the  favorite 
food  of  the  hundreds  of  fish  in  sight,  whose  life,  swim- 
ming calmly  to  and  fro,  seems  to  be  a  perpetual  picnic, 
like  that  of  the  goats  on  the  green  hill-sides.  But  they 
have  their  enemies  everywhere, —  in  the  water,  in  the 
air,  and  on  shore.  When  the  spawn  is  gone  and  the 
sardines  have  migrated,  the  fisherman  and  the  tourist 
cast  their  hooks  and  pull  in  dozens  in  a  morning ; 
although  once  or  twice  an  hour  they  are  surprised  by  a 
twenty  or  thirty  pound  monster  who  swallows  the  hook 
and  simply  walks  away  with  it,  heedless  of  the  tiny  line 
which  seeks  to  hold  him.  The  chief  excitement  of 
ocean  fishing  lies  in  this,  that  one  never  knows  what 
kind  of  fish  one  is  going  to  land  next.  More  than 
twenty  varieties  are  caught  here,  including  rock-cod, 


72  SANTA  CATALINA  ISLAND. 

sheepshead,  whitefish,  barracuda,  mackerel,  etc.  The 
most  fascinating  of  all  is  a  bright  red  fish  which  haunts 
the  rocks ,  as  beautiful  as  the  Chinese  goldfishes  kept 
in  glass  globes,  but  very  much  larger.  It  is  almost 
too  beautiful  to  kill,  but  it  has  an  ugly  mouth,  and 
is  good  to  eat,  so  up  it  comes  en  route  to  the  frying- 
pan. 

The  fisherman  is  the  least  formidable  enemy  of  these 
fish.  The  pelican  and  the  seal  are  wholesale  butchers 
in  comparison.  The  large  pelicans,  with  their  huge, 
ugly  bills,  with  which  they  can  scoop  up  a  dozen  sar- 
dines or  smelts  at  one  fell  swoop,  are  very  abundant  at 
Catalina  Island,  but  at  the  present  rate  of  extermina- 
tion by  tourists  they  will  soon  be  scarce.  Their  wing- 
bones  make  good  and  novel  pipe-stems,  and  their  skin, 
with  the  soft  white  and  gray  feathers,  is  ornamental ; 
and  that  settles  their  fate.  They  are  very  stupid  birds, 
and  slow,  and  not  a  bit  afraid  of  human  beings,  which 
makes  them  easy  victims.  Tourists  kill  them  from  the 
beach  or  on  boats,  and  after  skinning  them,  throw  the 
carcass  overboard,  where  it  is  immediately  pounced  upon 
and  disputed  by  a  dozen  greedy  gulls.  The  seals  occa- 
sionally visit  Avalon  Bay  on  their  fishing  excursions, 
ingeniously  swimming  a  dozen  abreast  in  a  semicircle, 
and  driving  the  fish  before  them  till  they  are  cornered. 
Sometimes  the  terrified  fish,  in  their  eager  flight,  jump 
on  the  beach,  where  they  may  be  picked  up  alive.  No 
one  should  fail  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  seal  rocks  and  see 
these  creatures  "  at  home."  The  rocks  are  at  the  south- 
ern extremity  of  the  island,  about  six  miles  from 
Avalon,  and  can  be  reached  by  row-boat,  or  by  the  steam- 
tug  which  almost  daily  takes  down  a  party.  A  row- 
boat  is  preferable,  because  the  seals  allow  it  to  approach 


SANTA   CATALLNA  ISLAND.  78 

nearer  than  a  puffing  tug.  On  the  way  down  observe 
the  splendid  precipitous  rocks,  to  the  sides  of  which 
some  wild  goats  may  occasionally  be  seen  clinging  like 
flies.  The  boat  passes  projecting  rocks  and  nigged 
promontories,  on  which  a  few  pelicans  and  seals  are 
basking ;  and  between  them  are  several  large  curved 
beaches  of  smooth  pebbles,  three  or  four  feet  high,  and 
fifty  feet  wide,  to  which  every  winter's  storms  add  a 
foot  or  two.  As  we  approach  the  southern  end  of  the 
island,  the  swell  of  the  outer  Pacific  becomes  percepti- 
ble, and  at  the  same  time  the  seal  rocks  rise  up  before 
us.  The  hundreds  of  sea-lions  lying  on  them  appear 
to  be  fast  asleep  ;  but  suddenly  a  sentinel  raises  up  his 
head,  watches  us  a  moment,  and  then  utters  a  cry  of 
alarm.  Immediately  the  whole  army  are  awake,  and 
gradually  assume  an  erect  position,  barking  hoarsely  as 
we  approach  them.  Among  them  are  some  formidable 
monsters,  large  and  heavy  as  oxen,  and  were  they  not 
known  to  be  perfectly  harmless,  it  would  seem  a  most 
hazardous  undertaking  to  row  right  up  to  them.  With 
every  stroke  of  the  oars  they  become  more  excited  and 
noisy,  and  finally,  when  we  are  within  forty  or  fifty  feet 
of  the  rock,  they  plunge  headlong  and  pell-mell  into  the 
water.  For  a  moment  they  are  invisible,  and  then  they 
are  seen  collecting  in  a  body  in  a  sort  of  pool  between 
the  rocks,  sticking  up  their  snake-like  necks  and  heads, 
and  barking  louder  than  ever,  the  younger  ones  bleat- 
ing just  like  sheep.  But  gradually,  as  we  move  away 
a  little,  and  throw  out  our  fishing-lines,  they  become 
convinced  that  our  intentions  are  honorable,  and  then, 
with  many  a  groan  and  snap  at  their  neighbors,  they 
climb  back  clumsily  to  the  summit  of  the  rocks,  the 
biggest  ones  securing  the  best  places.  Seal  rocks  are 


74  SANTA   CATALESIA  ISLAND. 

always  good  fishing-ground ;  but  why  is  it  that  the  fish 
do  not  learn  to  avoid  places  where  they  hear  the  loud 
barking  of  their  voracious  enemies?  In  this  respect 
their  instincts  appear  to  fail  them. 


VII. 
SANTA   BARBARA   AND   THE   YOSEMITE. 

A.    DAM    UNDER    A    RIVER-BED BEANS   AND    CULTURE AN 

J2STHETIC    TOWN BEAUTIFUL   GARDENS SPANISHTOWN 

AND  CHINATOWN THE   MOJAVE    DESERT ON    THE   WAY 

TO  THE    YOSEMITE A  FINE   STAGE    RIDE FLORAL  WON- 
DERS   THE   SIERRA  SNOW-PLANT    AND    MARIPOSA   LILIES 

RESEMBLANCE    TO    OREGON     SCENERY DISCOVERY    OF 

THE   VALLEY  —  THE   YOSEMITE    AND    BRIDAL    VEIL    FALLS 

RAINBOW   SPRAY EL   CAPITAN   AND    MIRROR    LAKE  — 

ORIGIN   OF    THE    VALLEY YOSEMITE   AS    A    LAKE GLA- 
CIER   POINT    AND    OTHER    EXCURSIONS THE     BIG     TREES 

IN    THE   MARIPOSA    GROVE. 

THERE  are  two  ways  of  reaching  Santa  Barbara  from 
Los  Angeles  (or  San  Francisco),  —  either  on  a  coast 
steamer  or  by  the  new  railway  branch  from  Saugus, 
about  twenty-five  miles  north  of  Los  Angeles,  which 
was  completed  two  or  three  years  ago.  For  scenic 
reasons  the  latter  route  is  preferable,  as  it  takes  us 
in  succession  over  the  lovely  San  Fernando  Valley, 
through  a  mountain  canon,  and  lastly,  for  almost  thirty 
miles,  along  the  edge  of  the  ocean,  thus  exhibiting 
Nature  in  her  three  principal  phases.  Near  San  Fer- 
nando, which  is  a  pretty  and  inviting  place,  may  be  seen 
one  of  the  greatest  curiosities  in  the  State,  showing  what 
strange  methods  are  sometimes  resorted  to  in  Southern 

75 


76  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

California  to  secure  water  for  irrigation.  It  is  a  granite 
dam,  fifty  feet  deep,  which  brings  to  the  surface  the 
water  of  a  subterranean  river.  Only  three  feet  of  the 
dam  are  above  ground,  the  rest  being  sunk  down  to 
the  bed-rock,  so  as  to  force  up  into  the  surface-pipes  a 
stream  of  water  fifteen  feet  deep  and  forty  feet  wide.  An- 
other curiosity  of  San  Fernando  is  a  small  boy  who,  while 
the  train  stops,  walks  up  and  down  with  a  basket  on  his 
arm,  shouting  incessantly,  "  Nice  sweet  oranges,  five  for 
a  nickel,  eight  for  a  dime !  " 

Soon  after  leaving  San  Fernando  the  train  plunges 
into  a  canon,  where  we  get  a  near  view  of  the  foothills  and 
mountains  which  had  so  often  aroused  our  curiosity  and 
a  desire  to  make  their  acquaintance.  They  are  of  the 
most  diverse  forms  and  colors,  now  rugged,  gray,  and  for- 
bidding, and  again  femininely  rounded,  green,  and  hand- 
some. At  Newhall  and  beyond  we  greet  the  sight  of 
beautiful  oak  groves  on  the  foothills,  —  real,  natural,  unir- 
rigated  shade  trees,  with  cows  resting  under  them.  The 
ocean  is  reached  at  Santa  Buenaventura,  which  is  get- 
ting to  be  a  seaport  doing  a  considerable  export  business 
in  grain,  oil,  pork,  flaxseed,  honey,  and,  above  all,  beans. 
The  region  between  this  town  and  Santa  Barbara  is  re- 
markably favorable  to  the  growth  of  beans,  113,700 
sacks  having  been  raised  in  1887,  as  compared  to  only 
35,000  sacks  of  corn,  the  next  highest  item;  and  we 
are  not  a  bit  surprised,  therefore,  to  read  in  the  guide- 
book that  "  Santa  Barbara  prides  herself  on  being  more 
aesthetic  and  cultured  than  her  somewhat  plebeian  sis- 
ters, San  Diego  and  Los  Angeles."  Hereafter  it  will 
be  impossible  to  doubt  the  Boston-baked-beans  theory. 

There  is  unquestionably  an  air  of  refinement  and  good 
taste  about  Santa  Barbara  which  impresses  one  as  favor- 


SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  77 

ably  as  the  scenic  and  climatic  attractions.  It  is  a  sub- 
stantially built,  most  picturesquely  situated  town  of  four 
or  five  thousand  inhabitants,  traversed  by  a  long,  wide 
business  street  in  which  are  many  elegant  stores  which 
at  once  indicate  it  to  be  a  great  resort  of  tourists ;  and 
what  predisposes  one  especially  in  favor  of  this  place  is 
the  clean  and  noiseless  asphalt  paving  of  the  streets, 
which  promises  rest  and  refreshing  sleep  to  the  victims 
of  nervousness  and  insomnia, — a  pavement  which  if  intro- 
duced by  legal  enactment  in  every  town  and  city  in  the 
country,  would  reduce  the  income  of  physicians  twenty- 
five  per  cent.  But  as  there  are  few  but  physicians  who 
know  this  fact,  we  of  course  hear  very  little  about  it. 
The  Arlington  is  one  of  the  most  comfortable  and  best 
managed  hotels  in  California,  and  from  its  cupola  a  good 
view  of  the  town  and  surroundings  may  be  obtained. 
To  the  west  is  the  Pacific,  bounded  by  the  semicircular 
harbor,  which  is  invaded  by  a  long  pier,  —  the  coolest 
place  in  town.  Then,  in  a  wider  semicircle,  comes  the 
town,  half  buried  amidst  the  Peruvian  pepper  and 
other  fine  shade  trees,  extending  up  to  the  foothills, 
behind  which  rise  the  green  and  gray  snowless  moun- 
tains. 

Santa  Barbara  is  not  a  commercial  place,  there  being 
no  large  ships  in  the  harbor,  and  its  trade  only  local. 
More  than  any  other  place  in  Southern  California  it 
gives  the  impression  of  being  merely  a  town  of  quiet 
homes  and  a  pleasure  and  health  resort  for  tourists  and 
invalids.  Though  Indian  remains  must  be  scarce  by  this 
time,  there  are  here,  for  the  benefit  of  this  class  of  visi- 
tors, a  large  number  of  curiosity  stores,  whose  goods 
are  probably  manufactured  in  San  Francisco,  like  the 
"  Indian  relics  "  and  curios  sold  in  Alaska.  The  old  Mis- 


78  SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE   YOSEMITE. 

sion,  however,  is  genuine,  and  attracts  many  visitors.  A 
pleasant  resort  is  the  free  library,  well  stocked,  and  the 
reading-room,  which  is  always  cool,  but  has  the  objec- 
tionable feature  of  commanding  so  fine  a  view  that  it 
requires  a  special  effort  to  prevent  the  eyes  from  con- 
stantly wandering  away  from  the  pages  of  the  books. 

The  gardens  of  Santa  Barbara  are  probably  the  finest 
and  most  varied  in  the  State,  and  nowhere  else  did  I  find 
myself  so  frequently  obliged  to  stand  still  and  peep  over 
fences  at  some  new  species  or  varieties  of  flowers  or  flow- 
ering shrubs  and  trees.  Persia  itself  can  hardly  excel 
Santa  Barbara  in  roses,  three  hundred  varieties  of  which 
are  found  here.  "  At  one  of  our  annual  rose  fairs  we 
have  seen  one  hundred  and  fifty-six  varieties  of  roses, 
all  cut  from  one  garden  that  morning,"  says  the  Rev. 
A.  W.  Jackson;  in  "Barbariana";  and  the  wonderful 
cosmopolitanism  of  California  soil  and  climate  is  indi- 
cated by  the  assertion  that  "  trees  native  to  Peru,  Chili, 
Australia,  China,  Japan,  New  Zealand,  North  Africa, 
South  Africa,  Southern  and  Central  Europe,  Southern 
and  Western  Asia,  and  our  own  Southern  and  Northeast- 
ern States,  are  found  growing  in  it  side  by  side." 

There  are  years  when  the  thermometer  does  not  rise 
above  85°  or  sink  below  35°,  and  for  this  climate  Santa 
Barbara  is  partly  indebted  to  the  four  mountainous 
islands  (similar  to  Catalina)  which  lie  twenty  miles  or 
more  to  the  westward  and  shut  out  the  cold  trade  winds. 
Fogs,  however,  are  abundant  in  spring,  and  there  is  an 
occasional  scorching  day  or  two,  or  a  dust-storm;  but 
these  blemishes,  as  Mr.  Jackson  cheerfully  remarks, 
amount  to  no  more  than  "  the  freckles  on  the  face  of  a 
young  lady,  who  is  beautiful  and  delightful  notwith- 
standing." Like  every  other  town  of  over  two  thou- 


SANTA  BARBARA   AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  79 

sand  in  this  part  of  the  State,  Santa  Barbara  has  its 
Spanishtown  and  Chinatown,  but  with  this  difference, 
that  there  is  said  to  be  a  remnant  here  of  the  better  class 
of  Spaniards  who  formerly  owned  the  State  and  lived 
in  large  adobe  houses,  while  in  other  towns  little  now 
remains  but  a  handful  of  the  poorer  classes,  aptly  charac- 
terized as  "Greasers."  Though  poor,  they  are  not  always 
honest,  according  to  report;  and  I  have  myself  seen 
young  girls  enticing  a  neighbor's  chickens  with  a  hand- 
ful of  wheat  into  their  house,  whence  they  never  issued 
again ;  and  sometimes  they  catch  them  with  fish-hooks. 
The  men  make  a  precarious  living  by  taking  care  of 
cattle  and  horses  or  doing  some  agricultural  work. 
They  speak  a  very  corrupt  Spanish,  and  live  in  a  most 
primitive  way  in  one-room  shanties  raised  a  foot  or  two 
above  the  ground.  The  children  run  about  barefooted 
all  the  year  round,  and  the  women  are  ignorant  of  the 
uses  of  flannel,  their  dress  consisting  simply  of  a  calico 
wrapper :  hence  it  is  not  surprising  that,  as  a  promi- 
nent physician  informed  me,  a  large  proportion  of 
them  succumb  to  the  sudden  changes  of  temperature, 
and  die  of  consumption,  —  the  very  disease  against 
which  this  climate,  with  proper  precautions,  is  so  potent. 
It  is  a  significant  fact  that  although  an  American 
occasionally  marries  one  of  these  Mexican  women,  it 
hardly  ever  happens  that  an  American  woman  marries 
a  Mexican.  Thus  disease,  emigration  to  Mexico,  and 
intermarriage  are  gradually  decimating  the  Mexicans, 
and  in  two  or  three  decades  few  will  be  left  in  Southern 
California.  It  is  a  sign  of  the  times  that  at  Santa  Bar- 
bara the  Chinese  are  gradually  invading  Spanishtown. 
Say  what  they  will,  the  Californians  at  harvest  time  are 
glad  of  all  the  Chinamen  they  can  get;  nor  are  there 


80  SANTA  BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE. 

many  who  refuse  to  patronize  the  Chinese  vegetable  man, 
who  is  a  feature  of  every  place.  Every  morning  he  comes 
round  with  a  wagon-load  of  assorted  vegetables  which 
he  sells  at  such  an  absurdly  low  price  that  even  farmers 
find  it  more  economical  to  buy  than  to  raise  their  vege- 
tables. Five  or  ten  cents  will  supply  a  family  of  three 
or  four  with  choice  vegetables  for  two  meals ;  and  the 
man  always  throws  in  a  bunch  of  celery  or  some  other 
thing  which  in  the  East  would  cost  as  much  as  is  here 
paid  for  the  whole.  But  John  can  afford  it.  All  he 
asks  of  life  is  his  daily  ration  of  rice,  a  portion  of  a 
room  to  sleep  in,  and  a  brisk  sea-breeze  to  fly  his  musical 
kite,  which  he  watches  and  listens  to  by  the  hour  with 
an  expression  of  genuine  enjoyment. 

In  coming  to  Santa  Barbara,  the  last  fifty  miles  were 
made  in  the  darkness,  so  that  the  saline  breeze  alone 
gave  evidence  that  for  almost  two  hours  the  train  skirts 
the  ocean.  In  returning,  we  take  the  morning  train,  to 
connect  at  Saugus  with  the  north-bound  Los  Angeles 
train  for  Yosemite,  and  thus  get  a  chance  to  enjoy  this 
ride  along  the  ocean,  which  is  very  different  from  the 
stretch  between  San  Diego  and  Oceanside,  —  there,  a 
level,  sandy  beach,  and  the  mountains  at  a  distance; 
here,  a  mountain  chain  with  its  foot  in  the  breakers, 
leaving  hardly  room  enough  for  the  train  to  wind  along, 
the  piles  occasionally  lapped  by  the  waves.  Between 
Saugus  and  Mojave  numerous  large  bee  ranches  can  be 
seen  from  the  train,  though  there  seems  no  superabun- 
dance of  flowers. 

As  we  enter  the  Mojave  Desert,  —  which  is  a  real 
desert,  by  reason  of  its  sandy  soil,  and  not  simply  in 
appearance,  owing  to  the  lack  of  irrigation,  —  the  most 
conspicuous  objects  are  the  large  yucca  cactus-trees, 


SANTA  BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE.  81 

rising  to  a  height  of  forty  feet  and  more,  with  large, 
thick  branches,  which  furnish  fibre  for  paper.  On  all 
sides  isolated,  naked  hills,  and  clusters  of  hills  with 
curious  vertical  water-furrows,  rise  as  abruptly  out  of 
the  level,  sandy  floor  as  Catalina  does  from  the  Pacific. 
By  and  by  darkness  closes  in,  and  we  miss  the  experi- 
ence of  passing  through  the  seventeen  tunnels  and  see- 
ing the  famous  "  Loop,"  where  the  train  crosses  its  own 
track  about  eighty  feet  above.  All  that  we  remember 
of  this  region  is  the  dismal  howling  of  the  desert  wind, 
which  is  cold  enough  to  make  blankets  comfortable  even 
in  a  Pullman  sleeper,  though  in  the  daytime  the  tem- 
perature in  this  region  may  have  been  anywhere  between 
100°  and  120°. 

At  3.30  the  porter  wakes  us,  and  at  4.10  we  are 
dropped  in  the  midst  of  a  prairie,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
beyond  the  Berenda  station,  whence  a  branch  road  is 
to  take  us  in  the  direction  of  the  Yosemite  Valley. 
The  short  ride  to  Raymond,  the  terminus  of  the  branch 
railway,  is  over  a  level  region  densely  inhabited  by 
jack-rabbits,  who  are  used  as  targets  by  pistolled  tour- 
ists in  the  freight  car.  Perhaps  it  is  hardly  correct 
to  say  that  this  region  is  level;  for  there  are  thou- 
sands of  curious  little  round  hills  several  feet  high 
and  fifteen  or  twenty  in  diameter.  They  are  locally 
known  as  "  hog-wallows,"  but  their  origin  is  unknown. 
At  Raymond,  those  of  the  passengers  who  had  been  wise 
enough  to  telegraph  a  week  in  advance  for  outside  or 
box  seats  on  the  stages  take  possession  of  them  with  a 
feeling  of  proud  superiority  over  their  less  prudent  fel- 
low-travellers. But  there  are  stages  and  stages,  and  an 
inside  seat  in  a  new  stage,  with  good  springs,  is  prefer- 
able to  an  outside  seat  on  an  old  rickety  stage,  at  least 


82  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

for  those  who  would  rather  lose  some  of  the  scenery 
en  route  than  be  "seasick"  all  the  way,  as  not  a  few 
ladies  are ;  for  the  road  is  rough  and  the  pace  rapid, 
regardless  of  holes  and  bumps.  Four  horses  are  at- 
tached to  the  stage,  which  are  changed  seven  times 
before  we  reach  the  Valley,  next  day  at  noon.  In  the 
height  of  the  season  this  company  employs  three  hun- 
dred horses.  The  ascent  begins  at  once ;  mountain  air 
and  scenery  surround  us,  and  become  more  inspiriting 
and  inspiring  in  a  gradual  crescendo,  till  the  climax  is 
reached  at  Inspiration  Point,  just  above  the  Valley. 
The  vegetation  changes  every  few  hours  and  becomes 
constantly  more  fascinating.  Large,  stately  oak-trees  are 
everywhere,  adorned  with  pendent  branches  of  mistle- 
toe as  large  as  beehives.  The  stage  passes  under  some 
of  these,  which  leads  a  passenger  to  remark  that  it  is 
lucky  for  young  ladies  that  this  route  is  not  open  dur- 
ing Christmas  week. 

Grub  Gulch  is  the  suggestive  name  of  a  small  place 
we  stop  at  for  a  few  minutes ;  and  further  on,  while  the 
horses  are  being  changed,  passengers  have  a  chance  to 
inspect  the  reducing  works  of  the  Gambetta  gold  mine, 
the  flume  of  which,  conducting  water  from  an  enormous 
distance,  runs  along  the  stage  road  for  hours.  We  stop 
for  lunch  at  Grant's  Sulphur  Springs,  a  wild,  romantic 
mountain  resort,  the  proprietor  of  which  built  a  stretch 
of  road  costing  twelve  thousand  dollars,  on  condition 
that  the  stages  should  pass  his  way  and  stop  for  lunch. 
Supper  is  served  at  the  Wawona  Hotel,  where  we  spend 
the  night.  This  place  has  its  own  attractions  in  the 
shape  of  a  fine  water-fall,  a  lake,  a  trout-stream,  Hill's 
picture  gallery,  and  an  Alaskan  bear  in  a  cage  near  the 
river. 


SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  83 

It  may  seem  strange  that  a  bear  should  be  imported 
from  Alaska  to  the  Sierra,  which  has  plenty  of  its  own. 
But  they  are  less  easily  caught  here,  and  avoid  the 
haunts  of  men.  We  saw  none  on  the  way,  nor  any 
other  animals  except  squirrels  and  a  few  birds,  among 
which  the  pretty  but  unmusical  bluejays  predominated. 
One  passenger  said  that  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  two 
deer,  but  could  not  prove  his  assertion.  Scenery  sim- 
ilar to  that  of  the  preceding  day,  only  grander  and  more 
of  it.  There  may  be  mountains  in  other  parts  of  Amer- 
ica to  match  these,  but  nowhere  such  a  bewildering 
profusion  and  unique  beauty  of  flowers,  shrubs,  and 
trees.  The  driver  showed  no  disposition  to  stop  and  give 
us  a  chance  to  pick  these  floral  novelties ;  and  wisely, 
for  we  should  have  never  reached  the  Valley  if  he 
had.  An  amateur  botanist,  on  foot  or  on  horseback, 
would  require  a  week  to  get  there.  It  is  not  only  those 
fringing  the  road  that  can  be  enjoyed  from  the  stage, 
but  those  at  a  distance,  too ;  for  they  grow  in  large  blue, 
yellow,  white,  or  red  patches,  looking  like  irregular  gar- 
den beds,  resting  cosily  under  a  shade  tree,  or  exposed 
on  a  sunny  ledge  or  hill-side,  where  they  sometimes 
present  the  appearance  of  gayly  colored  rocks.  Even 
Southern  California  has  nothing  to  match  this;  for 
although  there  may  be  a  still  greater  profusion  of 
flowers,  there  are  not  so  many  varieties  as  here.  Bleed- 
ing hearts,  larkspurs,  and  lupins  in  all  colors,  yellow  and 
white  violets,  snapdragons,  fragrant  California  lilac, 
honeysuckles,  tiger-lilies,  etc.,  etc.,  carpet  the  ground 
with  the  luxuriance  of  weeds.  Fortunately  those  that 
are  most  peculiar  to  the  region  are  also  the  most  abun- 
dant ;  namely,  the  Indian  pinks  (with  fringed  scarlet 
petals,  looking  like  groups  of  tiny  Japanese  parasols), 


84  SANTA  BARBARA   AND  THE   YOSEMITE. 

Indian  paint-brushes,  Mariposa  lilies,  and  snow-plants. 
The  long-stemmed,  tulip-shaped,  white  and  yellowish 
Mariposa  lilies  are  especially  numerous ;  and  when  one 
of  the  passengers  jumped  out  as  the  stage  climbed  up  a 
hill  and  brought  back  a  handful,  two  of  the  ladies  ex- 
claimed simultaneously,  after  glancing  at  the  curiously 
marked  downy  inside,  "  Why,  they  look  just  like  but- 
terflies !  "  — which  shows  that  they  are  well  named;  for 
mariposa  is  Spanish  for  butterfly. 

But  the  gem  of  the  collection  is  the  Sierra  snow- 
plant,  which  is  of  such  striking  and  unique  appearance, 
that  even  those  who  do  not  ordinarily  care  much  for 
flowers  cannot  repress  an  exclamation  of  rapturous  admi- 
ration when  they  first  see  one.  It  is  called  snow-plant  be- 
cause it  grows  only  at  an  elevation  of  from  four  to  eight 
thousand  feet,  while  the  last  snow-patches  are  melting : 
but  the  name  is  misleading,  as  one  expects  from  it  a 
white  flower ;  whereas,  the  small,  bell-shaped  flowers,  as 
well  as  the  scaly,  brittle,  thick  stems  around  which  they 
cluster  irregularly,  in  great  profusion,  are  all  one  red 
blush  of  blood  color.  They  push  themselves  like  mush- 
rooms out  of  the  ground,  displacing  the  layer  of  dry 
needles  under  the  fir-trees;  and  the  mode  of  their 
growth  and  origin  is,  I  believe,  still  something  of  a 
mystery  to  botanists.  Of  the  shrubs  I  will  mention 
only  the  dogwood,  whose  blossoms  are  as  pure  white 
and  as  large  as  in  Oregon  ;  the  tough  leather-plant,  with 
yellow  flowers,  similar,  to  those  of  the  dogwood ;  and 
the  manzanita,  so  called  from  its  berries,  which  look 
like  little  apples.  On  account  of  its  beautiful,  smooth, 
brown  rind,  marked  like  alligator  skin,  it  is  much  cov- 
eted for  canes,  and  every  young  man  hunts  a  few  hours 
for  a  good  specimen ;  but  though  the  bush  is  over-abun- 


SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  85 

dant,  straight  sticks  are  so  rare  that  they  are  sold  for 
five  dollars  on  the  spot. 

After  spending  a  winter  in  treeless  Southern  Califor- 
nia, the  sight  of  the  dense  and  stately  Sierra  forests  is  as 
agreeable  as  that  of  the  rare  mountain  shrubs  and  flow- 
ers. As  we  ascend  higher  and  higher,  the  change  in 
the  forest  trees  is  similar  to  that  which  we  encounter  in 
going  northward  towards  Oregon  and  Washington.  At 
a  place  where  the  oaks  are  still  abundant,  we  notice  two 
isolated  pine-trees  on  a  hill-side ;  these  become  more  and 
more  abundant,  till,  in  the  higher  regions,  they  become 
replaced  by  firs,  often  prettily  draped  with  yellow  moss 
(which  completely  hides  the  branches,  and  makes  the 
whole  tree  yellow),  many  of  them  dotted  with  innumer- 
able holes  in  which  woodpeckers  insert  their  acorns, — 
so  tightly  that  neither  squirrel  nor  bluejay  can  get  them 
out.  The  resemblance  to  Oregon  scenery  is  heightened 
by  the  numerous  burnt  stumps,  the  mosses,  and  the 
ferns.  Higher  and  higher  we  creep,  and  more  and 
more  magnificent  becomes  the  scenic  outlook  over  the 
mountain  crests  rising  behind  each  other  in  endless  suc- 
cession like  the  waves  of  a  stormy  sea,  with  an  occa- 
sional glimpse  far  down  into  the  yellow,  sunburnt  San 
Joaquin  Valley,  and  the  Coast  Range,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  away,  like  a  faint  silhouette.  In  this  howling 
wilderness  of  desolate  forests  and  mountains,  which  it 
takes  the  stage  almost  two  days  to  traverse  on  a  smooth 
road,  the  thought  occurs  again  and  again  how  in  the 
world  any  one  ever  discovered  this  Yosemite  Valley, 
hidden  away  in  the  heart  of  the  Sierras,  to  which  no 
arteries  led  them.  Had  it  not  been  for  the  pursuit  of 
that  band  of  Indians  by  Captain  Boling,  in  1851,  under 
the  guidance  of  two  Indian  chiefs,  it  is  possible  that  this 


86  SANTA   BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE. 

gigantic  gorge  of  the  Merced  River  might  still  answer 
to  the  description  given  of  it  at  that  time  by  one  of 
the  friendly  chiefs :  "  In  this  deep  valley  one  Indian  is 
more  than  ten  white  men.  The  hiding-places  are  many. 
They  will  throw  rocks  down  on  the  white  men  if  any 
should  come  near  them.  The  other  tribes  dare  not  make 
war  upon  them ;  for  they  are  lawless  like  the  grizzlies, 
and  as  strong.  We  are  afraid  to  go  to  this  valley,  for 
there  are  many  witches  there." 

Once  discovered  by  white  men,  the  Valley  was  sure  to 
become  world-famed  ere  long,  though  the  soldiers  and 
gold-hunters  who  first  saw  it  did  not  realize  that  they 
had  come  across  the  most  wonderful  collection  of  water- 
falls, precipitous  cliffs,  fantastic  peaks,  and  other  scenic 
features,  to  be  found  in  a  similar  compass  anywhere  in 
the  world.  In  approaching  a  spot  which,  although  dis- 
covered less  than  forty  years  ago,  is  already  as  well 
known  the  world  over  as  Niagara  or  Mont  Blanc,  expec- 
tation is  of  course  at  fever  heat.  What  adds  to  the 
excitement,  is  the  knowledge  that  the  first  bird's-eye- 
view  of  the  whole  Valley  which  we  get  on  this  route 
is  also  the  finest.  It  is  at  Inspiration  Point,  where  the 
driver  gave  us  just  two  minutes  to  take  in  the  most 
famous  scene  in  California.  But  these  stage-drivers 
have  sad  experiences.  Ours  told  me  how  some  time 
previously  he  had  stopped  his  stage  at  this  point,  and 
how  every  one  was  seemingly  wrapped  in  admiration 
too  deep  for  speech,  when  a  lady  on  the  back  seat  sud- 
denly broke  the  silence  by  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  my !  I 
wonder  why  they  have  no  lace  curtains  at  the  Wawona 
Hotel ! " 

It  is  of  the  Valley  as  a  whole  only  that  one  gets  the 
finest  impression  from  this  point;  the  individual  features, 


SANTA  BARBARA   AND   THE   YOSEMITE.  87 

the  giant  precipitous  wall  of  smooth  granite,  known  as 
El  Capitan,  and  especially  the  water-falls,  do  not  reveal 
their  full  grandeur  till  we  are  directly  beneath  them. 
As  the  stage  winds  down  into  the  Valley,  such  a  bewil- 
dering variety  of  scenic  surprises  crowd  each  other  that 
one  should  have  as  many  eyes  as  an  insect  to  take  them 
all  in ;  and  it  is  amusing  to  see  all  the  passengers  point- 
ing at  once  in  different  directions  to  call  attention  to 
something  that  particularly  strikes  their  fancy,  while 
each  one  is  too  busy  to  heed  the  others.  The  stage  trav- 
erses almost  the  whole  Valley,  which  is  over  six  miles 
in  length,  landing  the  majority  of  the  tourists  at  the 
State-built  Stoneman  House,  although  some  stop  at  Bar- 
nard's, a  mile  less  distant,  directly  opposite  the  triple 
Yosemite  Falls,  which  are  what  a  reporter  would  call 
a  "  three-decker."  These  falls,  as  well  as  the  Bridal 
Veil,  and  others  less  famous,  are  seen  from  the  stage  as 
it  traverses  the  Valley ;  but  of  course  they  want  a  whole 
afternoon  at  the  very  least  for  proper  inspection;  so, 
after  washing  off  the  abundant  Yosemite  dust,  and  par- 
taking of  lunch,  we  hire  a  carriage  or  saddle-horse,  and 
retrace  our  steps  through  the  Valley,  making  our  first 
stop  at  the  Yosemite  Falls.  In  coming  up  the  Valley 
the  driver  had  asked  us  how  wide  we  thought  the 
Yosemite  creek  was  at  the  height  where  it  falls  over 
the  edge.  It  looks  about  a  foot  wide,  and  the  guesses 
ranged  from  two  to  ten  feet.  "Sixty  feet  wide,"  he 
replied.  Our  new  driver  made  it  forty  feet,  and  on  con- 
sulting Professor  Whitney's  "  Yosemite  Guide-Book  " 
(which  still  remains  by  far  the  most  graphic  and  reliable 
account  of  the  Valley  ever  written,  but  of  which  it  is 
absolutely  impossible  to  find  a  copy  in  the  book-market, 
though  for  years  there  has  been  a  great  demand  for  it  — 


88  SANTA  BA11BARA  AND  THE   YOSEMiTE. 

a  rare  instance  of  publishers'  stupidity)  we  found  that 
he  makes  it  only  twenty  feet  in  width  and  two  deep, 
but  still  sufficient  to  furnish  from  half  a  million  to  a 
million  and  a  half  cubic  feet  of  water  in  an  hour  to  form 
the  falls.  Yet  it  is  not  so  much  by  its  volume  that  the 
Yosemite  Falls  imposes  as  by  its  unequalled  height. 
The  upper  fall  has  a  descent  of  fifteen  hundred  feet;  the 
middle,  of  six  hundred  and  twenty-six ;  and  the  lower, 
of  four  hundred ;  making  together  a  water-fall  (for  they 
are  almost  in  a  vertical  line)  of  over  twenty-six  hundred 
feet,  or  more  than  half  9,  mile  —  sixteen  times  as  high 
as  Niagara. 

With  an  umbrella  or  rubber  coat  one  can  get  quite 
near  the  foot  of  the  lower  falls,  and  enjoy  the  spectacle  of 
the  spray,  and  of  the  rainbow  which  forever  hovers  over 
it,  like  a  circle  of  humming-birds.  To  the  left  of  the 
falls  is  a  sort  of  Cave  of  the  Winds,  whence  a  strong 
blast  is  forced  on  the  upper  part  of  the  descending  water, 
swaying  it  to  and  fro  several  feet,  and  producing  the 
occasional  effect  of  a  lateral  curve.  Indeed,  the  aspect 
of  the  falls  changes  as  constantly  as  the  expression  on  a 
human  face,  and  one  might  visit  it  scores  of  times  with- 
out seeing  it  exactly  as  it  was  before. 

Having  given  as  much  time  as  possible  to  these  falls, 
we  continue  our  trip  down  the  same  side  of  the  Valley,  to 
the  right  of  the  clear  and  rapid  Merced  River,  till  we  come 
under  the  shadow  of  El  Capitan,  the  summit  of  which  is 
thirty-three  hundred  feet  straight  overhead — almost 
seven  times  as  high  as  the  highest  European  cathedral. 
A  single  perpendicular  wall  of  this  height  would  make 
this  rock  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world ;  but  here  are 
two  such  walls,  half  a  mile  in  length,  smooth  as  marble, 
meeting  at  a  right  angle,  which  makes  "  The  Captain  " 


SAKTA  BARBABA  AND  I'HE  YOSEMITE.          89 

an  absolutely  unique  sight :  "  Sublimity  materialized  in 
granite,"  as  Hutchinson  puts  it.  Vast  as  this  rock  seemed 
from  Inspiration  Point,  one  must  walk  or  drive  along 
its  base  fully  to  realize  its  grandeur  and  sublimity. 
"  The  whole  of  New  York,"  exclaimed  an  enthusiastic 
companion,  "  might  have  been  quarried  out  of  that  rock 
without  making  a  damaging  impression  on  it ! "  The 
smooth  surface  is  in  one  place  darkened  by  what  seems 
a  young  fir-tree  a  few  feet  high,  but  which  is  said  to  be 
an  old  tree  over  a  hundred  feet  high.  How  it  ever  got 
a  foothold  and  nourishment  half-way  up  this  naked 
rock,  is  a  mystery.  Even  a  tree,  one  would  think, 
should  become  dizzy  and  lose  its  balance  in  such  a 
situation. 

Below  El  Capitan  the  Valley  gradually  contracts  into 
a  canon,  "  not  having  the  U  shape  of  the  Yosemite,  but 
the  usual  V  shape  of  California  valleys."  The  descent 
is  extraordinarily  abrupt,  and  the  Merced  River  rushes 
and  tumbles  along  in  a  continuous  headlong  current 
almost  as  wild  and  impetuous  as  the  Niagara  Rapids. 
High  up  on  the  steep  right  wall  of  the  cafion  we  see 
the  Milton  road  winding  upwards  like  a  white  thread. 
Our  downward  road  continues  as  far  as  the  Cascade 
Falls,  which,  though  they  would  elsewhere  be  regarded 
as  stupendous,  here  seem  something  of  an  anticlimax 
after  the  Yosemite  Falls. 

Not  so  with  the  Bridal  Veil  Fall,  which  we  next  visit, 
after  returning  as  far  as  El  Capitan  and  crossing  the 
river  to  the  other  side  of  the  valley.  Although  only 
about  one-third  as  high  as  the  Yosemite  Falls,  the 
Bridal  Veil  has  features  which  make  it  fully  their  equal 
in  charm.  The  proper  time  to  visit  it  is  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  on  account  of  the  beautiful  rainbows 


90  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

which  then  form  in  it ;  and  it  should  be  approached  from 
the  lower  part  of  the  Valley  to  see  them  to  the  best 
advantage.  At  first  the  rainbow  hovers  over  the  fall 
about  two-thirds  up  towards  its  top ;  but  as  we  draw 
near,  it  gradually  sinks  down,  till  at  last  it  seems  to  be 
dashed  to  pieces  on  the  cascades  at  the  foot  of  the  falls, 
where  it  covers  everything  with  a  mass  of  irridescent 
spray,  including  the  neighboring  rocks  and  grass  and 
bushes,  to  which  it  is  wafted  by  the  wind.  Like  the 
Yosemite,  this  fall  is  constantly  swayed  to  and  fro  by 
the  wind,  as  much  as  twenty  feet  from  its  perpendicular 
course,  and  to  this  fluttering  in  the  wind  of  its  spray- 
like  mass  it  owes  its  name.  The  wind  constantly 
changes,  so  that  at  one  moment  the  inverted  water- 
rockets  descend  on  the  right,  and  the  loose  spray  on  the 
left,  and  the  next  moment  vice  versa.  Sometimes  there 
are  two  water-falls,  —  one  upward  and  one  downward ; 
for  when  the  wind  blows  towards  the  fall,  a  dense  spray 
rises  up  to  the  very  top  of  the  fall,  where  it  is  blown 
over  the  ledge  like  a  cloud.  And  what  still  more 
heightens  the  beauty  of  the  scene  is,  that  beyond  the 
ledge  nothing  is  visible,  so  that  the  water  seems  to 
tumble  right  out  of  the  blue  sky  into  the  deep  Valley. 

More  than  any  rivals,  the  falls  of  the  Yosemite  Valley 
are  constantly  altered  by  changes  in  the  wind,  moon, 
and  sunlight;  and  it  is  this  great  variety  of  aspect, 
together  with  the  unparalleled  height,  that  constitutes 
their  unique  fascination  and  makes  them  superior  to  all 
other  water-falls,  except  of  course  Niagara,  which  is  so 
utterly  different  in  character  as  to  be  incomparable. 
Over  the  magnificent  fall  of  the  Yellowstone  they  have 
the  advantage  that  they  can  be  seen  from  below  as  well 
as  from  above. 


SANTA   BARBARA   AND  THE   YOSEMITE.  91 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  more  charm  of  color  in  the 
Yellowstone  canon,  the  few  spots  and  stains  on  the 
Yosemite  walls  being  insignificant  in  comparison  with 
the  brilliant  mosaic  which  covers  the  sides  of  the  other 
canon.  Nor  are  the  peaks  and  pinnacles  which  tower  over 
the  lower  walls  of  the  Yosemite  quite  as  fantastic  and 
architecturally  suggestive  as  those  of  the  Yellowstone, 
or  those  that  may  be  seen  on  approaching  the  Engadine 
from  Chur,  or  leaving  it  for  Como.  And  yet  they  are 
so  superb  that  the  Yosemite  would  be  hardly  less  fre- 
quented were  all  its  water-falls  blotted  out  of  existence 
—  as  they  practically  are  late  in  summer,  when  there 
are  no  more  snows  to  melt  and  replenish  them.  When 
Horace  Greeley  visited  the  Valley,  the  Yosemite  Falls 
were  momentarily  so  insignificant  that  he  pronounced 
them  "  a  humbug  " ;  yet  his  admiration  of  the  Valley 
was  none  the  less  superlative.  Cathedral  Rock,  the 
Three  Brothers,  The  Sentinel,  Sentinel  Dome,  Cloud's 
Rest,  El  Capitan,  and  North  and  South  Domes  form 
an  assemblage  of  peaks  sufficiently  imposing  to  com- 
pensate the  late  summer  tourist  for  the  disappointment 
caused  by  the  fickle  water.  Yet,  if  possible,  Yosemite 
should  be  visited  in  May,  not  only  because  the  water- 
falls are  then  at  their  best  and  the  surrounding  peaks 
still  snow-capped,  but  because  there  may  be,  and  often 
is,  a  belated  snow-storm  of  a  few  days'  duration,  which 
gives  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  Valley  both  in  its 
summer  and  its  winter  aspects,  in  rapid  succession. 

On  the  way  back  to  the  hotel  a  dispute  arose  in  our 
carriage  as  to  the  origin  of  the  Valley.  Clarence  King 
states  in  his  "Mountaineering  in  the  Sierra  Nevada" 
that  various  markings  which  he  noted  had  convinced 
him  that  at  one  time  a  glacier  no  less  than  a  thousand 


92  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

feet  deep  had  flowed  through  the  Valley,  occupying  its 
entire  bottom.  The  eminent  Californian  geologist,  Mr. 
Muir,  also  has  advocated  the  theory  that  the  Valley 
was  eroded  by  glaciers ;  whereas,  Professor  Whitney 
emphatically  declares  that  a  more  absurd  theory  was 
never  advanced,  and  gives  his  reasons  why  he  believes 
neither  in  the  erosive  action  of  ice,  nor  of  aqueous  ero- 
sion, as  being  the  cause  of  the  formation  of  the  Valley, 
nor  in  its  origin  through  a  mountain  fissure.  He  ad- 
vances the  startling  theory  that  Yosemite  Valley  was 
formed  by  the  sinking  down  of  its  bottom  to  an  un- 
known depth  during  a  convulsive  moment  of  the  sur- 
rounding mountains.  We  tried  to  find  reasons  for  or 
against  these  various  theories  in  the  aspect  of  the  oppos- 
ing walls,  to  see  if  they  would  fit  into  each  other,  or 
show  signs  of  erosion;  but  of  course  where  doctors 
differ  it  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  amateurs  could 
come  to  an  agreement,  so  the  question  remains  an  open 
one.  But  there  is  a  certain  fascination  in  Professor 
Whitney's  theory,  with  the  corollary  that  at  one  time 
the  cavity  thus  formed  "  was,  undoubtedly,  occupied  by 
water,  forming  a  lake  of  unsurpassed  beauty  and  grand- 
eur, until  quite  a  recent  epoch."  Beautiful  as  the 
present  floor  of  the  Valley  is,  with  its  great  variety  of 
grasses,  flowers,  shrubs,  and  trees,  one  cannot  help 
fancying  that  a  Lake  Yosemite,  on  which  one  might 
approach  the  foot  of  the  water-falls  in  a  boat  by  moon- 
light, would  be  more  romantic  still ;  and  such  a  lake 
could  be  made  by  damming  the  Merced  River  below  El 
Capitan.  But  it  would  cost  many  millions. 

Too  much  for  one  afternoon  are  all  these  scenes  and 
speculations,  and  we  reach  the  hotel  thoroughly  ex- 
hausted and  hungry.  The  bill  of  fare  at  the  Stoneman 


SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE   YOSEMITE.  93 

House  is  a  considerable  improvement  on  that  of  the 
original  inhabitants  of  the  Yosemite,  who  used  to  live 
on  acorns,  scorched  wild  oats  and  grass  seeds,  dried 
caterpillars,  roasted  grasshoppers,  and  similar  delicacies ; 
but  in  other  respects  the  arrangements  are  somewhat 
primitive,  and  the  lady  who  missed  the  lace  curtains  at 
the  Wawona  Hotel  probably  was  equally  disappointed  at 
the  Stoneman  House,  where  the  guests  have  to  sleep 
with  blue  spectacles  on  unless  they  wish  the  sun  to 
wake  them  at  six,  by  shining  straight  into  their  faces 
through  the  bare  windows.  However,  there  is  good 
reason  for  getting  up  early ;  for  Mirror  Lake  must  be 
visited  before  the  breeze,  which  is  apt  to  blow  soon  after 
sunrise,  has  had  time  to  disturb  the  surface  of  the 
"  Sleeping  Water,"  as  the  Indians  used  to  call  this  shal- 
low little  lake  situated  a  few  miles  up  the  Tenaya 
canon. 

Mirror  Lake  deserves  attention,  not  only  because  in 
it  are  reflected  some  of  the  finest  mountain  forms  in 
America,  but  because  it  indirectly  helped  to  give  the 
Valley  its  present  name.  The  Indian  name  for  it  was 
Ahwahnee.  One  morning,  according  to  the  Indian 
legend,  a  chief  went  to  the  Sleeping  Water,  where 
he  ran  across  a  monstrous  grizzly  bear.  After  a  ter- 
rific combat,  in  which  his  only  weapon  was  the  limb 
of  a  tree,  he  despatched  him,  and  henceforth  his  fol- 
lowers called  him  Yo  Semite,  or  Big  Grizzly,  which 
name  was  handed  down  to  his  children,  and  ultimately 
to  the  whole  tribe ;  and  at  the  first  white  men's  camp- 
fire  in  the  Valley  it  was  thus  named,  at  the  suggestion 
of  Dr.  L.  H.  Bunnell. 

Mirror  Lake  is  small,  and  not  especially  impressive 
as  a  body  of  water,  but  its  grand  surroundings  and  the 


94  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

absolute  stillness  of  its  surface  make  it  perhaps  the 
most  perfect  aqueous  mirror  in  the  world.  The  bunches 
of  grass  in  the  middle  of  the  lake,  the  trees  lining  its 
borders,  and  the  bold  mountains  in  the  background  are 
reflected  so  clearly  and  so  vividly  that  in  a  photo- 
graph it  is  difficult  to  tell  which  is  the  real  picture 
or  which  the  image,  the  water  itself  appearing  like  a 
thin  sheet  separating  the  two  antipodal  views.  It  is 
under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Galen  Clark,  the  super- 
intendent of  the  Valley,  that  the  lake  is  seen  to  best 
advantage,  as  he  knows  all  the  best  points  of  view, 
and  is  armed  with  a  slightly  concave  looking-glass 
which  makes  the  scene  doubly  a  mirror-lake.  No  paint- 
ing could  equal  in  beauty  the  miniature  views  of 
subaquatic  landscape  shown  in  this  glass,  in  all  the 
natural  colors  —  the  blue  sky  resting  on  the  gray  and 
white  rocks,  and  the  dark  green  trees  showing  every 
branch  and  every  needle  with  perfect  distinctness.  The 
climax  comes  when  the  sun  begins  to  peep  from  behind 
the  mountain  summits,  which  here  hide  it  an  hour 
longer  than  in  the  lower  Valley.  In  Mr.  Clark's  mirror 
it  looks  like  a  large  electric  light  whose  dazzle  throws 
the  mirrored  views  of  sky,  mountain,  and  forest  into  a 
gloomy  shade,  making  the  scene  like  a  dream  of  the 
lower  world.  We  had  to  keep  on  the  move  constantly 
to  keep  the  sun  in  view,  yet  not  too  high,  and  I  never 
before  realized  how  quickly  the  sun  does  travel,  or  how 
the  conformation  of  the  mountain  ridges  can  make  it 
seemingly  go  now  to  the  left,  and  now  to  the  right. 
When  it  had  climbed  too  high  to  be  looked  at  comfort- 
ably even  in  a  mirror,  a  breeze  suddenly  arose  and 
obliterated  the  scenery  painted  on  the  lake's  surface. 
Just  at  that  moment  two  wagon-loads  of  tourists  arrived 


SANTA  BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE.  95 

from  the  hotel.  They  had  known  as  well  as  we  that 
Mirror  Lake  after  sunrise  is  nothing  but  an  ordinary 
pond,  but  had  lingered  too  long  over  their  breakfast  or 
between  their  sheets.  Such  is  the  average  tourist  — 
travelling  hundreds  of  miles,  and  enduring  the  fatigues 
of  staging  to  see  a  world-famous  scene,  and  then  miss- 
ing all  for  the  sake  of  a  few  more  bites  of  tough  beef- 
steak ! 

The  whole  day  still  lies  before  us,  and  it  is  part  of 
the  regular  programme  to  spend  it  in  seeing  the  Vernal 
and  Nevada  Falls.  The  carriage  takes  us  across  a 
bridge,  where  saddle-horses  are  in  waiting  for  those 
who  dread  the  climb.  Make  the  driver  stop  a  few  min- 
utes on  the  middle  of  the  bridge,  because  thence  you 
get  one  of  the  finest  views  of  one  of  those  unique  moun- 
tain formations  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  —  the  North  Dome, 
as  true  to  its  name  and  as  absolutely  symmetrical  and 
regular  as  any  capitol  or  religious  edifice  ever  con- 
structed. The  falls  we  have  seen  so  far  are  formed  by 
creeks  which  fall  over  the  Yosemite  walls  and  then 
join  the  river  below ;  but  those  we  are  to  see  now  are 
formed  by  the  Merced  itself,  and  therefore  promise  to 
be  more  imposing  in  volume,  even  if  inferior  in  height. 
A  wide  bridle-path  leads  up  the  steep  gorge,  perfectly 
safe  for  the  most  nervous,  though  much  blasting  was 
necessary  to  make  it  so.  Superb  views  of  the  Valley 
beneath,  of  the  precipitous  cliffs  on  all  sides,  and  from 
them  a  water-fall  or  two  which  would  make  the  repu- 
tation of  any  ordinary  mountain  region,  but  which  here 
are  hardly  noticed  amid  the  abundance  of  first-class 
cataracts.  A  deserted  log  cabin  near  the  foot  of  the 
Vernal  Fall  marks  the  place  where  we  can  either  follow 
the  horses  up  to  the  top  of  the  fall  or  climb  up  by  a 


96  SANTA  BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE. 

steep  footpath  by  the  side  of  the  fall.  By  all  means 
this  path  should  be  taken,  either  going  or  descending, 
the  latter  being  preferable  not  only  as  being  much 
easier,  but  because  our  descending  from  the  top  to  the 
base  of  the  fall  makes  it  seem  higher,  grander,  and 
louder  every  moment. 

The  Vernal  Fall  is  about  four  hundred  feet  high 
and  eighty  feet  wide  —  considerably  lower  than  those  in 
the  Valley,  but  much  wider  and  more  voluminous,  and 
therefore  stands  midway  between  the  kind  of  falls  which 
impose  through  their  massiveness,  of  which  Niagara  is 
the  type,  and  those  whose  principal  charm  lies  in  their 
height  and  eternal  variation  of  aspect,  as  is  the  case 
with  the  Yellowstone,  Bridal  Veil,  and  Yosemite  Falls. 
Few  hear  of  the  Vernal  Fall  before  coming  to  the  Yo- 
semite ;  yet  if  it  were  situated  amid  the  mountains  of 
Switzerland,  it  would  be  surrounded  by  a  dozen  hotels 
and  seen  by  a  hundred  thousand  visitors  every  summer. 
Approaching  it  by  the  footpath,  we  are  soon  enveloped 
in  a  drenching  spray,  the  haunt  of  a  superb  rainbow, 
which  at  first  forms  a  complete  circle,  but  as  we  get  up 
higher  is  gradually  reduced  to  the  semi-circular  form  of 
ordinary  rainbows  (another  reason  for  taking  this  path 
on  returning,  since  a  scenic  crescendo  is  preferable  to  a 
decrescendo').  The  last  part  of  the  ascent  is  made  on  a 
series  of  stairs,  dizzy  but  safe,  built  through  a  sort 
of  cavern  in  the  rock,  where  we  can  get  a  peep  right 
into  the  home  of  rare  ferns  and  mosses,  kept  green  by 
the  spray,  and  fortunately  just  out  of  reach  of  amateur 
botanists.  At  the  summit,  the  guide  steps  out  on  the 
smooth  granite  to  the  edge  of  the  fall,  and  holds  out  his 
hand  for  those  wno  wish  to  approach  and  see  its  foot. 
The  upper  part  can  be  seen  by  leaning  over  a  curious 


SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE   YOSEMITE.  97 

granite  parapet,  about  three  feet  high,  looking,  as  Pro- 
fessor Whitney  remarks,  "as  if  made  on  purpose  to 
afford  the  visitor  a  secure  position  from  which  to  enjoy 
the  scene."  It  is  only  a  foot- or  two  wide,  and  looks  as 
if  it  were  rent  off  the  rest  of  the  rock  to  some  distance 
below,  and  as  if  it  might  be  easily  kicked  over;  but 
this  feeling  of  insecurity,  where  you  know  you  are 
perfectly  safe,  only  adds  to  the  grandeur  of  the  scene. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  find  a  more  romantic  and 
commanding  spot  than  this.  At  your  feet  is  the  Vernal 
Fall  and  the  turbulent  Merced  tumbling  down  the 
mammoth  gorge ;  in  the  other  direction,  less  than  a 
mile  upwards,  is  another  water-fall,  world  famed,  —  the 
Nevada,  —  and  between  these  two  falls  are  endless  com- 
binations of  wild  rocks  and  shooting  waters.  Only  a 
few  yards  above  the  Vernal  is  an  eddying  hollow  known 
as  the  Emerald  Pool ;  and  immediately  above  this  is  "the 
flume,  where  the  stream  glides  noiselessly  but  with 
lightning  speed  over  its  polished  granite  bed,  making 
a  preparatory  run  for  its  plunge  over  the  Vernal  Fall," 
as  the  first  white  man  who  ever  saw  this  spot,  J.  H. 
Lawrence,  happily  described  it.  The  guide  here  tells 
the  story  of  an  Englishman  who  wanted  to  "take  a 
bawth,  don't  you  know,"  in  this  flume,  and  who  was  car- 
ried down  by  the  swift  and  powerful  current  into  the 
Emerald  Pool,  where  he  caught  on  to  a  bush  just  in 
time  to  avoid  being  swept  over  the  falls. 

In  low  water  the  thin  layer  of  swiftly  moving  water 
gives  the  flume  a  silvery  appearance,  whence  it  has 
received  the  name  of  Silver  Apron ;  but  if  the  Indians 
had  any  name  for  it,  it  must  have  been  the  more  poetic 
designation  of  Arrow  Water,  or  something  similar.  It 
is  not  safe  to  go  near  its  edge ;  for  it  is  sometimes  sud- 


98  SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

denly  widened  by  one  of  those  curious  irregular  pulsa- 
tions and  reinforcements  noticed  in  many  cascades. 
We  now  cross  a  bridge  over  the  raging  torrent,  and  stop 
at  the  Casa  Nevada,  where  Mr.  Snow  and  his  wife 
always  are  ready  to  provide  a  bountiful  lunch  at  short 
notice.  I  believe  that  the  principal  reason  why  this 
lunch  is  so  bountiful  is  because  Mrs.  Snow  wants  to  get 
off  her  favorite  joke  at  least  once  a  day.  Some  one  is 
sure  to  ask  where  she  gets  all  these  victuals,  whereupon 
she  replies,  "  We  raise  them,"  adding,  after  a  pause  and 
a  look  at  the  incredulous  faces,  "  on  mules."  Mr.  Snow 
is  known  as  Perpetual  Snow,  from  having  lived  here 
almost  twenty  years,  and  he  sometimes  facetiously  offers 
to  show  summer  visitors  "  six  feet  of  Snow  "  right  in 
his  house.  He  has  albums  for  sale  containing  fine  col- 
lections of  Yosemite  ferns  —  thirty-six  different  kinds ; 
and  shows  with  pride  his  old  registers  in  which  many 
famous  visitors  have  signed  their  names. 

Only  a  few  steps  from  the  house,  the  Nevada  Fall 
comes  thundering  down  its  six  hundred  feet  or  more, 
according  to  the  season.  To  the  left  is  Liberty  Cap, 
almost  as  precipitous  as  El  Capitan,  yet  often  ascended. 
A  path  leads  up  to  the  summit  of  the  Nevada  Fall, 
which,  however,  cannot  be  approached  near  enough  to 
get  a  downward  glimpse ;  but  this  is  compensated  for  by 
the  fine  side  views  one  gets  of  it  coming  up.  Further 
on  is  the  mountain  called  Cloud's  Rest,  from  which 
superb  views  of  the  valley  and  surroundings,  as  well  as 
the  high  Sierras,  are  obtainable,  but  which  can  rarely  be 
visited  with  comfort  before  the  middle  of  May,  on 
account  of  the  deep  snow-patches  under  which  the  path 
is  buried.  There  is  also  a  trail  leading  from  the  Casa 
Nevada  over  to  one  of  the  most  famous  parts  of  the 


SANTA  BARBARA   AND  THE  YOSEMITB.  99 

Yosemite  walls,  —  Glacier  Point ;  but  there  is  so  much 
to  see  there  that  one  ought  to  devote  a  whole  day  to  it. 
Therefore  we  return  to  the  Valley  the  same  way  we 
came,  and  the  next  morning  are  again  in  the  saddle, 
bound  for  Glacier  Point,  directly  over  the  hotel.  Every- 
body has  seen  pictures  of  Glacier  Point,  and  the  huge 
boulder  which  projects  at  one  place  several  feet  over 
the  edge  of  the  wall.  On  this  boulder  many  persons 
have  had  their  photographs  taken,  with  nothing  between 
them  and  the  bottom  of  the  Valley,  more  than  half  a 
mile  beneath,  than  a  bit  of  projecting  rock,  and  nothing 
to  hold  on  by.  On  the  ledge  to  the  right,  however,  an 
iron  railing  has  been  securely  fastened,  so  that  the  most 
timorous  can  now  look  down  with  perfect  safety. 

At  this  point  a  flag  is  floating,  and  in  the  evening  it 
is  customary  to  build  a  fire,  and  afterwards  throw  the 
brands  and  coals  over  the  brink.  To  the  hotel  guests 
directly  below,  who  have  been  watching  for  them,  these 
brands  present  the  appearance  of  a  golden  water-fall, 
thus  adding  one  more  to  the  Yosemite's  incomparable 
collection. 

Looking  up  from  this  Valley,  shut  in  on  all  sides 
by  perpendicular  walls,  and  lofty  peaks  from  twenty- 
five  hundred  to  seven  thousand  feet  in  height,  it  seems 
impossible  that  a  way  to  the  summit  should  have  been 
found  except  by  climbing  up  the  canon  as  we  did  yes- 
terday ;  but  there  is  a  more  direct  path  straight  up  the 
wall,  to  which  the  guide  conducts  us,  after  passing  the 
village  and  the  seldom-used,  solitary  chapel.  The  as- 
cent is  very  steep  in  some  places,  and  hard  on  man  and 
beast;  but  so  well  planned  as  to  be  without  risk  or 
danger,  even  though  the  horse  does  occasionally  poke 
his  nose  over  a  yawning  abyss.  Fortunately  for  the 


100  SANTA  BARBARA   AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

nervous,  the  most  "  ticklish  "  places  are  concealed  by 
the  dense  brush  clinging  to  the  rocks,  else  the  stubborn 
habit  of  the  animals,  of  always  walking  as  near  the  brink 
of  the  precipice  as  possible,  would  cause  many  a  heart 
to  stop  beating  momentarily.  The  air  is  wonderfully 
exhilarating  and  clear,  and  nothing  could  be  finer 
than  the  aspect  of  the  receding  Valley,  and  the  triple 
Yosemite  Falls  directly  opposite,  which  are  almost 
always  in  sight. 

Half-way  up,  on  our  side,  is  the  Agassiz  Rock,  —  a  huge 
boulder,  in  a  state,  apparently,  of  dangerously  unstable 
equilibrium,  and  looking  like  some  of  the  fantastic  pin- 
nacles of  the  Yellowstone  canon,  as  if  it  might  be  kicked 
over  with  one  foot;  but  appearances  are  deceptive. 
There  is  a  good  hotel  at  the  summit,  where  the  horses 
are  left  with  the  guide,  while  we  proceed  a  few  hundred 
yards  farther,  to  Glacier  Point.  Imagine  how  the  Valley 
would  look  from  a  balloon,  and  you  have  some  concep- 
tion of  the  gruesome  charms  of  Glacier  Point,  whence 
the  outlook  or  downward  look  into  the  Valley  is  more 
perpendicular  and  awe-inspiring  than  from  Inspiration 
Point,  which  affords  the  more  picturesque  view  of  the 
whole  length  of  the  Valley,  its  depth  being  a  sub- 
ordinate feature.  But  the  advantage  of  Glacier  Point 
lies  in  this,  that  by  walking  a  few  steps  to  the  right,  an 
entirely  different  scene  is  commanded,  —  a  scene  which 
includes  both  the  Vernal  and  Nevada  Falls,  and  beyond 
them  an  imposing  array  of  snow-clad  Sierra  summits. 
It  is  here  that  every  visitor  must  feel  the  impotence 
and  barrenness  of  words  to  paint  the  images  treasured 
in  his  memory;  and  were  every  word  a  photograph, 
a  description  would  convey  but  a  faint  impression 
of  the  original.  But  we  are  to  go  up  higher  yet, 


SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  10] 

where  a  still  wider  circle  of  mountains,  cliffs,  domes, 
canons,  and  snow-fields  will  come  within  the  field  of  vis. 
ion.  The  Sentinel  Dome  is  our  goal  now,  although  the 
guide  is  not  quite  certain  whether  the  path  is  sufficiently 
free  from  snow  for  the  horses :  we  do  come  upon  many 
large  snow-patches,  a  foot  or  two  deep,  but  we  always 
manage  to  get  through  or  around  them.  Fresh  snow  ol 
this  depth  sometimes  falls  as  late  as  the  end  of  May, 
even  in  the  Valley  below. 

At  last  we  emerge  from  the  forest,  tie  our  horses  to 
the  last  trees,  and  clamber  up  the  bald  pate  of  the 
Dome.  Hence  the  billowy  crests  of  the  Sierra  Nevada, 
including  peaks  of  thirteen  thousand  feet  and  over, 
show  themselves  in  something  approaching  their  real 
height  and  sublime  grandeur.  The  scene  is  not  unlike 
that  of  the  Spanish  Sierra  Nevada,  as  seen  from  Granada, 
thus  presenting  one  of  the  numerous  resemblances 
between  Spain  and  California.  The  surface  of  the  Sen- 
tinel Dome  is  full  of  curious  small  holes,  probably  the 
product  of  innumerable  expansions  and  contractions 
of  the  rock  under  the  influence  of  alternating  heat  and 
cold.  The  very  top  is  occupied  by  a  stunted,  gnarled, 
and  broken  pine,  presenting  the  appearance  of  a  veteran 
warrior  and  storm  wrestler,  covered  with  wounds,  upon 
which  it  exudes  the  soothing  balm  of  a  remarkably  fra- 
grant kind  of  pitch.  Beware  of  touching  it !  a  second's 
contact  will  ruin  a  suit.  Had  Heine  ever  been  in  Cali- 
fornia, we  might  feel  certain  that  this  tree  must  have 
suggested  to  him  that  fine  poem  of  the  pine-tree  dream- 
ing amidst  its  winter  snows  of  the  palm-tree  bathed  in 
sunshine,  —  say  in  the  Mojave  Desert,  but  a  hundred 
miles  away. 

Returning  toward  the  Valley,  we  soon   come   to  a 


102  SANTA  BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE. 

place  known  as  Washburn  Point,  where  the  view  of  the 
falls  and  mountains  is  similar  to  that  obtained  from 
the  Sentinel  Dome,  and  perhaps  even  more  impressive 
because  of  its  being  nearer.  From  here  the  scenery  of 
the  high  Sierras  can  be  seen  even  by  those  who  are 
unable  to  walk  or  ride  on  such  arduous  paths ;  for  there 
is  a  good  wagon  road  leading  hence  to  the  Wawona 
Hotel,  and  striking  the  road  to  the  Valley  some  miles 
above.  For  pedestrians,  by  far  the  best  way  to  see  the 
Valley  would  be  to  take  this  road  from  the  Wawona, 
spending  the  night  at  the  Glacier  Point  Hotel,  devot- 
ing the  next  day  to  this  place  and  the  Sentinel  Dome, 
and  descending  to  the  Valley  on  the  day  following  by 
way  of  the  Nevada  and  Vernal  Falls.  Thus  the  Valley 
may  be  visited  without  any  uphill  work  at  all. 

It  is  well  to  make  all  one's  plans  in  advance,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  reserve  a  good  return  seat  on  the  stage  as  soon 
as  you,  arrive  at  the  Stoneman.  The  stage  leaves  early 
in  the  morning,  and  returns  as  far  as  the  Wawona  Hotel, 
where  we  arrive  in  time  for  lunch.  After  lunch  un- 
covered stages  drive  up  to  the  hotel,  and  everybody  gets 
aboard  for  a  visit  to  the  Big  Trees  in  the  Mariposa 
Grove.  The  round  trip  covers  seventeen  miles  only, 
thus  leaving  plenty  of  time  to  see  the  arboreal  giants  at 
leisure.  The  road  takes  us  more  deeply  into  the  virgin 
forest  than  we  have  penetrated  yet,  and  there  are  many 
superb  trees  which  attract  the  attention  long  before  the 
Mariposa  Grove  is  reached.  Some  of  the  passengers 
begin  to  comment  on  a  few  big  sugar  pines,  and  even 
express  a  desire  to  stop  and  measure  them;  but  the 
driver  scornfully  refuses  to  waste  any  time  on  such  pig- 
mies. So  on  and  up  we  go,  and  at  last  come  to  a  few 
scattered  specimens  which  the  driver  admits  belong  to 


SANTA   BARBARA  AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  103 

the  real  Big  Tree  family ;  but  he  does  not  stop  till  we 
reach  the  world-renowned  Grizzly  Giant,  the  thickest, 
though  not  the  highest,  of  all  the  Sequoias.  With  the 
exception  of  some  specimens  of  the  African  Baobab,  this 
is  the  thickest  tree  in  the  world,  so  far  as  known, 
though  by  no  means  the  highest.  In  one  of  the  other 
nine  Big  Tree  groves  found  in  California  (and  only  in 
California)  —  the  Calaveras  —  there  is  a  tree  fifty-three 
feet  higher  than  any  one  in  the  Mariposa  Grove,  and 
Professor  Whitney  refers  to  an  Australian  eucalyptus 
four  hundred  and  eighty  feet  in  height,  overtopping  the 
tallest  Sequoia  by  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  feet.  But 
for  height  and  thickness  combined,  the  Sequoia  excels 
all  other  trees ;  and  as  the  Mariposa  Grove  contains  the 
thickest  trees,  it  is  the  most  impressive  of  all,  since  in 
the  height  of  a  three-hundred-foot  tree  a  difference  of 
ten  or  twenty  feet  is  hardly  noticeable,  while  in  the  cir- 
cumference every  foot  tells. 

Ten  of  our  party  clasped  hands  to  encircle  the  Grizzly 
Giant,  but  the  endmen  could  not  begin  to  even  see  each 
other  on  the  other  side.  I  walked  around  it  and  counted 
fifty-three  steps.  The  exact  measurement  is  ninety- 
three  feet  seven  inches,  without  allowing  for  that  portion 
of  the  bark  which  has  been  destroyed  by  fire.  The  best 
idea  of  its  enormous  girth  is  conveyed  by  one  of  Taber's 
excellent  photographs,  in  which  a  horse  stands  along- 
side of  the  tree,  at  full  length,  while  a  dozen  men  are 
scattered  at  intervals  along  the  bark,  without  nearly 
filling  up  so  much  of  the  tree  as  is  included  in  the  view. 
Though  blackened  and  cruelly  hollowed  out  by  fire,  the 
Grizzly  Giant  is  still  alive,  but  its  upper  part  is  as 
dilapidated  and  time-worn  as  the  lower ;  and  no  wonder, 
for  it  must  have  first  stuck  its  roots  into  Sierra  soil  per- 


104  SANTA  BARBARA  AND   THE  YOSEMITE. 

haps  three  or  four  centuries  after  the  advent  of  Christ, 
by  the  most  conservative  estimate.  The  lowest  branch 
of  this  tree  is  fully  six  feet  in  diameter  —  large  enough 
to  set  up  as  a  Big  Tree  by  itself,  —  "as  large  as  the 
trunks  of  the  largest  elms  of  the  Connecticut  valley." 

Most  of  the  tourists  cut  off  little  slices  of  the  bark, 
which  in  this  case  is  hardly  a  reprehensible  practice,  for 
it  would  take  decades  of  such  petty  vandalism  to  make 
any  impression  on  this  monster.  Yet  there  are  other 
mementos  that  might  as  well  be  taken,  such  as  the 
mosses  clinging  to  it  and  the  cones  found  under  it. 
These  cones  are  surprisingly  small,  —  only  about  two 
inches  in  length,  —  especially  when  compared  with  other 
cones  found  in  this  region  and  offered  for  sale  at  the 
hotels,  put  up  in  wooden  frames  and  covered  with  moss 
—  some  of  them  a  foot  and  a  half  or  more  in  length. 
But  the  Grizzly  Giant  must  not  detain  us  too  long ;  for 
there  are  several  hundred  more  Sequoias  to  be  seen,  and, 
as  a  punster  suggested,  a  Big-treatise  might  be  written 
on  the  Mariposa  Grove  alone. 

As  we  pass  from  the  Lower  to  the  Upper  Grove,  these 
trees  become  more  and  more  numerous  among  the  pines 
and  firs,  until  at  last  we  come  to  a  genuine  grove  of 
Sequoia  giganteas,  — a  real  forest  cathedral.  There  is  a 
flutter  of  excitement  as  we  approach  the  Tunnel  Tree, 
or  Wawona  (which  is  Indian  for  big  tree),  through 
which  the  stage  drives  as  it  stands,  with  horses,  passen- 
gers, and  all.  The  diameter  of  this  tree  at  the  ground 
is  twenty-seven  feet,  or  three  feet  less  than  the  Grizzly 
Giant ;  the  "  tunnel  "  by  which  we  go  through  it  is  ten 
feet  high  and  from  six  to  ten  feet  wide.  Just  as  we 
drive  into  it,  a  poetic  youth  exclaims  to  his  fair  com- 
panion, "  Now  look  out  for  spiders  I  "  and  others  of  the 


BIG    TKEE — YOSEMITE    VALLEY. 


SANTA   BARBARA   AND  THE  YOSEMITE.  105 

same  class  must  nave  passed  through  before,  for  names 
are  written  on  the  inside,  and  even  visiting-cards  tacked 
on.  The  wood  chopped  out  here  was  of  course  made 
into  relics  and  sold  years  ago,  yet  paper  knives  and 
other  things  made  of  it  are  still  to  be  had  in  the  grove 
in  quantities  to  suit. 

At  a  little  log  cabin,  occupied  by  the  guardians  of  the 
grove,  the  stage  stops  again,  and  the  venturesome  climb 
up  the  prostrate  trunk  of  a  fallen  monarch,  on  a  rickety 
ladder.  The  upper  part  of  the  trunk  is  rotten,  and 
resembles  the  hull  of  a  wrecked  ocean  steamer.  It  once 
took  five  men  three  weeks  to  fell  one  of  these  giants ; 
and  even  after  the  connection  of  the  trunk  with  the 
stump  had  been  severed,  it  took  three  days  of  wedge- 
driving  before  the  tree  could  be  made  to  fall.  Imagine, 
therefore,  the  force  of  wind  required  to  throw  over  such 
a  tree,  and  the  nerve  of  Andrew  Jackson  Smith,  who 
once  remained  in  the  hollow  of  one  of  them,  known  as 
Smith's  Cabin  (in  the  South  Grove),  during  a  Sierra 
storm  which  threw  down  "  Old  Goliath  "  ! 

The  guardians  of  the  grove  have  for  sale  packages  of 
seeds  of  the  Big  Trees,  though  they  frankly  tell  pur- 
chasers- that  not  one  in  a  hundred  will  grow.  They 
have  a  nursery  near  the  cabin,  and  often  send  young 
trees  away.  The  Sequoia  gigantea,  although  found 
nowhere  except  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  California, 
grows  readily  elsewhere,  and  vast  numbers  have  been 
planted  in  this  country  and  abroad.  The  climate  of 
England  is  said  to  be  specially  favorable  to  it,  and 
from  seeds  planted  there  in  1853  have  grown  trees 
which  are  already  over  sixty  feet  in  height  and  ten  in 
girth.  A  thousand  years  hence  England  will  have  her 
Big  Tree  Groves,  and  they  will  be  more  beautiful  than 


106  SANTA  BAEBAEA  AND   THE   YOSEMITE. 

those  of  California,  because  better  guarded  against 
forest  fires.  But  they  will  lack  the  majestic  mountain 
surroundings. 

It  would  almost  seem  as  if  the  existence  of  these 
giant  trees  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  were  intended  by  nature 
as  a  striking  artistic  contrast  and  compensation  for  the 
utter  absence  of  forests  in  Southern  California, — a  con- 
trast heightened  by  the  numerous  other  fine  species  of 
evergreen  trees,  especially  the  famous  redwood  groves, 
which  Professor  Whitney  has  described  so  poetically. 
Outside  of  Ceylon  and  other  tropical  countries  there  is, 
perhaps,  no  region  which  has  so  fine  and  varied  an 
assortment  of  valuable  woods  as  the  Yosemite  neighbor- 
hood. No  visitor  should  fail  to  see  the  admirable  col- 
lection of  ornamental  objects  prepared  by  J.  Starke, 
some  of  them  inlaid  with  several  dozen  kinds  of  Sierra 
woods,  making  a  mosaic  as  elegant  as  mother-of-pearl. 
And  I  must  once  more  refer  to  another  thing  in  which 
the  Yosemite  region  is  unexcelled,  —  the  flowers. 

After  seeing  the  unrivalled  Valley,  in  which  Nature, 
as  in  a  final  operatic  chorus,  has  grouped  in  an  over- 
whelming ensemble  all  her  motives — snow-peaks,  domes, 
spires,  precipices,  lakes,  rivers,  and  water-falls  —  all  in 
the  small  compass  of  six  or  seven  miles,  the  scenery 
on  the  way  back  to  the  San  Joaquin  Valley,  fine  as  it  is, 
and  seemed  on  coming,  cannot  but  have  the  effect  of  an 
anticlimax.  Not  so  with  the  flowers,  which  have  only 
gained  in  beauty,  variety,  and  abundance  during  our 
week's  stay  in  the  Valley.  Once  I  got  off  the  stage,  while 
it  was  climbing  a  hill,  and  in  the  space  of  half  a  mile 
gathered  twenty-two  kinds,  which  excited  many  "  ohs  " 
and  "ahs  "  from  the  other  passengers.  California  poppy 
patches,  nestling  under  trees,  formed  such  indescribably 


SANTA   BARBARA   AND   THE  YOSEMITE.  107 

lovely  groups  that  sometimes  every  hand  in  the  stage 
was  pointed  at  them  by  a  unanimous  impulse.  In 
some  places  the  flowers  stand  so  dense  that  a  bota- 
nist, in  measuring  off  a  square  yard,  found  over  three 
thousand  plants  on  it.  Here  a  flower-painter  might 
spend  his  life  making  perfect  pictures  which  he  need 
only  copy  from  nature ;  and  he  could  not  fail  of  at  least 
one  of  the  attributes  of  genius,  —  he  need  never  repeat 
himself. 


VIII. 
SAN  FRANCISCO   AND  CHINATOWN. 

MOUNTAINOUS     CHARACTER    OF    THE    PACIFIC    COAST — THE 

HILLS    OF    SAN   FRANCISCO CABLE-CAR    TOBOGGANING 

THE    GOLDEN    GATE    AND    CLIFF    HOUSE SCENES    IN    THE 

CHINESE    QUARTER — JOHN'S    TABLE  DELICACIES  —  LUNCH 

IN    A    CHINESE    RESTAURANT AN     HONEST     BOOKSELLER 

CHINESE  WOMEN OPIUM  DENS BEHIND    THE  SCENES 

IN  A  CHINESE  THEATRE THE  ASIATIC  TRADE  —  CAL- 
IFORNIA HOTELS,  RESTAURANTS,  AND  WINES  —  BERKELEY 
AND  THE  UNIVERSITY  —  THE  CLIMATE  OF  SAN  FRAN- 
CISCO. 

A  GLANCE  at  a  relief  map  of  the  United  States  shows 
a  most  striking  contrast  between  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Pacific  slopes,  especially  within  a  few  hundred  miles  of 
the  coast.  In  the  east,  the  mountains  are  few  and  low ; 
whereas  in  the  whole  of  California,  Oregon,  and  Wash- 
ington there  is  hardly  a  spot  whence  the  view  does  not 
include  a  mountain  range  with  a  few  snow-peaks.  And 
this  hilly  structure  characterizes  also  the  three  leading 
cities  of  the  coast,  and  many  of  the  smaller  ones.  Los 
Angeles,  near  one  end,  has  recently  built  cable-cars  to 
climb  the  hills  which  shut  it  in ;  Portland,  near  the 
other  end,  is  beginning  to  build  hers ;  and  San  Fran- 
cisco, in  the  centre,  has  long  had  the  most  complete 
cable-car  system  in  the  world.  Rome  may  have  been 
108 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  109 

built  on  seven  hills,  but  San  Francisco,  as  its  inhabi- 
tants love  to  claim,  is  a  city  of  a  hundred  hills.  There 
is  Californian  exaggeration  in  this ;  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  present  city  stands  on  about  a  dozen  hills,  with 
the  intervening  valleys  and  the  level  lots  created  by 
digging  twenty  million  cubic  yards  of  earth  out  of  the 
hill-sides,  and  filling  up  the  hollows ;  but  beyond  these 
there  are  scores  of  suburban  hills,  so  to  speak,  waiting  to 
be  annexed ;  and  when  the  city  shall  have  grown  to  the 
size  of  London,  —  which,  of  course,  is  only  a  question  of 
time,  —  it  will  probably  cover  a  hundred  hills :  q.  e.  d. 

For  purposes  of  drainage  and  other  sanitary  reasons, 
this  hilly  structure  of  the  city  is  a  decided  advantage, 
and  that  it  adds  greatly  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the 
impression  which  it  makes  on  visitors  is  obvious.  Ap- 
proaching it  at  night  on  an  Oakland  or  Saucelito  ferry- 
boat, or  viewing  it  from  an  elevated  point,  it  does  not 
present  to  the  eye  such  a  limitless  area  of  countless 
lights  as  does  New  York  seen  from  Union  Hill,  Ho- 
boken ;  but  the  grouping  of  the  lights  is  more  fascinat- 
ing, some  of  them  leading  in  straight,  double  lines  up 
the  hills  ;  while  others  are  arranged  in  semicircles  along 
the  amphitheatric  valleys.  To  get  a  bird's-eye  view  of 
San  Francisco  in  the  daytime,  one  need  not  climb  ardu- 
ous towers,  as  in  Eastern  and  European  cities ;  but  has 
only  to  take  a  front  seat  on  a  cable-car,  —  with  an  out- 
look unimpeded  by  driver  or  horses,  —  to  see  the  city 
from  half-a-dozen  high  hills,  and  as  many  different 
points  of  view.  No  city  in  the  world  can  be  seen  so 
easily,  so  quickly,  and  so  delightfully,  as  San  Francisco, 
from  these  cable-cars,  which,  in  the  long  run,  make  per- 
haps as  good  time  as  the  New  York  elevated  trains.  It 
is  a  constant  up  and  down,  and  the  sensation  of  rapidly 


110  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND   CHINATOWN. 

ascending  a  hill  through  rows  of  handsome  residences 
and  flower-gardens,  without  having  to  pity  the  poor, 
puffing  horses,  is  as  agreeable  as  the  sudden  plunges 
downward,  so  fast,  and  often  so  precipitous,  that  by 
shutting  the  eyes  one  can  easily  imagine  himself  to 
be  out  tobogganing.  The  feeling  is  similar  to  that 
experienced  at  Mauch  Chunk,  Pennsylvania,  on  decend- 
ing  the  hill  for  twenty  minutes  on  a  car  whose  only 
motor  is  gravitation. 

The  most  enjoyable  of  the  cable-car  excursions  is  the 
one  in  the  direction  of  the  Golden  Gate  and  Cliff  House, 
connecting  in  the  suburbs  with  a  new  steam-dummy 
road  only  completed  a  short  time  ago,  and  not  yet 
mentioned  in  the  guide-books.  This  excursion  is  really 
one  of  the  finest  in  California,  and  should  be  missed  by 
no  tourist ;  for  it  gives  him  superb  views  of  the  city  from 
several  hills,  and  of  the  bay  studded  with  pretty  islands, 
and  finally  takes  him  to  the  very  edge  of  the  Golden 
Gate,  where  he  can  see  the  ships  and  steamers  entering 
or  departing  for  China,  Japan,  Australia,  and  every 
port  of  Europe  and  America.  The  road  continuously 
skirts  the  shore,  being  dug  or  blasted  out  of  the  precip- 
itous hill-sides ;  and  directly  below  us  are  the  Pacific 
breakers  blindly  dashing  themselves  into  foam  and  spray 
on  the  rocks.  The  terminus  is  the  Cliff  House,  with  its 
"  seal  rocks,"  densely  inhabited  by  the  sea-lions,  which 
have  been  too  often  described  to  call  for  more  than 
mention.  There  are  countless  seal  rocks  between  San 
Diego  and  Sitka,  but  none  so  near  a  large  city  as  these, 
which  may  be  looked  on  as  a  free  aquarium  and  an  addi- 
tion to  the  Golden  Gate  Park.  They  would  have  long 
since  been  depopulated  were  they  not  protected  by  law. 
The  fishermen  clamor  for  a  repeal  of  this  law,  because 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND   CHINATOWN.  Ill 

the  seals  kill  so  many  salmon  bound  for  the  Sacramento 
River  at  the  other  end  of  the  bay ;  but  the  gain  of  a  few 
hundred  fishermen  would  be  the  loss  of  three  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  San  Franciscans.  As  well  let  the  city 
fathers  turn  over  the  Golden  Gate  Park  to  the  vegeta- 
ble gardeners.  It  takes  up  many  acres  which  might  be 
planted  with  useful  cabbages  and  onions,  —  enough  to 
enrich  quite  a  number  of  gardeners  ;  for  it  is  three  miles 
long  and  half  a  mile  wide,  containing  one  hundred  and 
fifty  acres  more  than  the  Central  Park  in  New  York. 
Besides,  it  contains  poison-oak,  and  is  so  "unimproved" 
in  part,  that  only  a  few  years  ago  a  wildcat  was  killed 
in  it.  Therefore,  down  with  the  Park !  let  it  be  ex- 
terminated, together  with  the  useless,  harshly  barking, 
salmon-eating  seals ! 

No  doubt  more  people  have  had  their  first  glimpse  of 
the  illimitable  Pacific  at  the  Cliff  House  than  from  all 
other  places  on  the  Calif ornian  Coast ;  and  it  is  a  most 
delightful  spot  to  spend  a  few  hours,  although  at  any 
time  of  the  year  a  light  overcoat  is  desirable.  When 
we  are  ready  to  return  we  have  the  choice  of  several 
roads,  none  of  which,  however,  is  as  attractive  as  the 
one  we  came  on.  So  we  once  more  connect  with  the 
cable-cars  and  have  another  five  cents'  worth  of  tobog- 
ganing—  without  snow  or  danger  of  broken  limbs.  I 
should  think  that  cable-car  tobogganing  parties  ought 
to  be  among  the  most  popular  amusements  in  San  Fran- 
cisco. I  am  sure  if  I  lived  there  I  should  ride  to  the 
Cliff  House  every  day  in  the  year.  The  return  trip 
takes  us  through  different  streets  from  those  we  saw 
before,  and  on  arriving  at  the  corner  of  Jones  and 
Washington  Streets,  a  most  magnificent  prospect  opens 
before  us.  We  have  risen  to  the  crest  of  a  hill,  which 


112  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN. 

seems  to  be  the  end  of  the  world,  when  suddenly  the 
whole  city  lies  far  down  below  us,  and  the  car  makes  an 
almost  perpendicular  plunge  a  few  hundred  yards,  as  if 
determined  to  lose  no  time  in  getting  there.  You  must 
hold  on  tightly,  but  there  is  no  cause  for  alarm,  as  the 
frequent  accidents  on  these  roads  do  not  happen  in  such 
places,  but  in  the  crowded  streets  below.  Presently  a 
still  greater  surprise  awaits  us.  The  car  turns  a  corner, 
and  without  a  moment's  warning  we  are  in  China,  which 
we  had  imagined  five  thousand  miles  away.  In  other 
parts  of  the  city  we  see  an  occasional  Chinese  laundry  and 
a  few  Chinamen  mingled  with  the  throng  of  Americans ; 
but  here  the  proportions  are  more  than  reversed, — 
Chinese  men,  women,  and  children,  Chinese  shops  and 
signs,  Chinese  conversation,  and  Chinese  smells  monopo- 
lize the  attention. 

San  Francisco  has  more  than  twenty  thousand  Chi- 
nese, hence  it  may  be  imagined  that  Chinatown  is  not 
a  village.  Anti-Mongolians  like  to  compare  it  to  a 
cancer  which  is  eating  its  way  through  the  vitals  of  the 
city,  constantly  enlarging  at  the  edges.  Blocks  upon 
blocks  in  some  of  the  best  streets  are  given  over  to  the 
Asiatic  invaders ;  and  while  the  large  buildings  formerly 
occupied  by  Americans  have  been  left  standing,  they 
have  undergone  such  a  thorough  metamorphosis  that 
if  the  Chinese  should  ever  be  driven  from  the  city  (as 
they  were  from  Tacoma),  the  simplest  way  to  Ameri- 
canize these  streets  again,  would  be  to  blow  them  up  with 
dynamite  and  rebuild  them  —  which  would  also  perhaps 
be  the  best  way  for  sanitary  reasons.  But  while  the  main 
buildings  and  streets  have  been  left  as  originally  laid 
out,  a  number  of  side  streets  and  narrow  alleys  —  exact 
copies  of  those  in  China  —  have  been  created  to  con- 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  113 

nect  them,  and  fill  up  every  vacant  yard  and  corner ; 
for  a  Chinaman  is  not  happy  unless  crowded  as  closely 
as  salmon  in  an  Alaskan  creek.  What  adds  to  this 
effect  of  crowding  is  that  all  life  and  activity  seems  to 
be  concentrated  on  the  ground  floor,  no  business  being 
apparently  carried  on  in  the  upper  floors,  which  look 
uninhabited  and  empty,  without  window  curtains,  or 
shutters,  or  signboards,  or  other  signs  of  habitation, 
excepting  in  the  restaurants,  whose  outsides,  from  base 
to  roof,  are  gayly  and  gaudily  decorated,  and  illuminated 
at  night  with  Chinese  paper  lanterns.  The  old  stores 
with  their  large  rooms  have  been  subdivided  into  many 
smaller  ones  —  some  of  them  only  fifteen  to  twenty  feet 
wide  or  even.  less.  The  place  of  signboards  is  taken  by 
the  well-known  wide  scrolls  of  red  paper  with  Chinese 
characters  printed  on  them,  and  pasted  vertically  on 
the  street  side,  while  smaller  ones  are  pasted  on  the 
windows.  Some  of  the  narrowest  alleys  have  no  stores, 
but  only  cheap  eating-houses,  gambling-places,  and  rows 
of  barred  windows,  behind  which  wretched  female  slaves 
solicit  passers-by.  Among  them  are  some  rather  pretty 
faces,  but  others  are  hideously  marked  by  disease.  In 
the  gambling-dens  domino-playing  seems  to  be  the  favor- 
ite game.  It  is  different  from  ours,  though  the  blocks 
are  similar,  and  some  of  the  players  are  as  expert  in 
mixing  and  placing  them,  and  as  excited  and  flushed 
as  the  poker-players  who  monopolize  the  smoking-room 
on  transatlantic  steamers. 

The  principal  impression  given  by  Chinatown  is  that 
these  Mongolians  chiefly  live  to  eat,  though  on  looking 
at  their  provisions,  one  often  wonders  that  they  can  eat 
and  live.  About  two-thirds  of  all  the  stores  are  meat, 
fruit,  or  grocery  stalls.  The  fruits  and  vegetables  ex- 


114  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN. 

posed  for  sale  are  mainly  American  varieties,  though 
among  them  are  some  strange  to  our  eyes.  The  bundles 
of  long  sticks  tied  together,  seen  everywhere,  are  sugar- 
cane from  the  Sandwich  Islands,  of  which  the  Johns 
—  and  demijohns,  as  the  boys  are  called  —  seem  to  be 
especially  fond.  Of  watermelons,  John  seems  to  be  as 
inordinately  enamored  as  a  negro.  The  butcher-shops 
have  the  largest  collections  of  curiosities.  Pork  and 
poultry  are  the  favorite  meats  of  Chinamen,  but  they 
must  of  course  do  everything  differently  from  our  way. 
We  smoke  our  pork  and  eat  our  poultry  fresh ;  they 
eat  their  pork  fresh  and  smoke  their  poultry.  Smoked 
ducks,  chickens,  and  geese  are  suspended  everywhere 
as  a  bait  to  passing  epicures.  Dried  and  smoked  fish, 
some  from  China,  fill  up  large  barrels,  and  some  are 
eaten  fresh.  Poultry  also  is  sometimes  eaten  fresh  — 
at  least  certain  parts ,  for  in  one  heap  on  the  counter 
you  will  see  the  entrails  of  chickens ;  in  another,  the 
combs  and  beards  of  roosters ;  and  in  a  third,  the  heads 
and  claws !  Nothing  is  wasted.  A  frequent  sight  is  a 
large  tub  filled  to  the  brim  with  cold  boiled  rice.  I 
bought  a  cake  in  a  baker's  shop,  below  the  pavement, 
marked  with  neat  Chinese  letters.  When  I  opened  it, 
subsequently,  I  found  that  behind  the  inoffensive-look- 
ing crust  it  harbored  rice  and  another  finer  grain, 
watermelon  seeds,  little  pieces  of  bacon,  several  hazel- 
nuts,  and  some  other  mysterious  ingredients.  Obviously 
I  had  come  across  a  sort  of  Chinese  mince-pie.  I  didn't 
eat  it.  In  another  store  I  bought  an  album  containing 
a  collection  of  Japanese  girls,  some  of  them  real  beau- 
ties (the  Chinese,  I  was  informed,  do  not  allow  their 
women  to  be  photographed),  some  very  cheap  silk  hand- 
kerchiefs embroidered  on  both  sides ;  and  for  seventy 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  115 

cents  an  elegantly  carved  bamboo,  shaped  like  a  large 
dude's  cane  and  containing  inside  a  telescoped  fishing- 
rod,  which  I  subsequently  found  useful  in  trouting  in 
the  brooks  near  Lake  Tahoe. 

An  old  man  with  a  bookstall  on  the  street,  of  whom 
I  bought  an  illustrated  volume,  altogether  upset  my 
notions  of  Chinese  morality.  I  asked  him  how  much  it 
was,  and  understood  him  to  say  "  four  bits  " ;  so  I  gave 
him  fifty  cents  and  walked  off  with  the  book.  But  he 
ran  after  me,  and  saying  "  two  bits,"  gave  me  back  a 
quarter.  His  countrymen  seemed  to  be  pleased  to  see 
me  walking  along  with  a  Chinese  book  under  my  arm, 
and  several  of  them  smiled  and  greeted  me,  which  they 
had  not  done  before.  The  majority  of  the  Chinese  in 
San  Francisco  belong,  of  course,  to  the  lowest  classes  of 
their  race ;  but  there  are  among  them  some  of  refined 
and  educated  appearance,  though  I  could  not  make  out 
whether  those  wearing  goggles  as  large  as  butter-plates 
thereby  intended  to  convey  the  impression  that  their 
eyes  had  been  greatly  injured  by  excessive  study. 
Women  are  frequently  seen  wobbling  along  the  street, 
dressed  in  blue  or  black  blouses  and  baggy  trousers, 
almost  like  those  of  the  men,  though  much  wider. 
Their  deformed  feet  are  placed  on  solid  wooden  soles 
with  embroidered  silk  above,  and  their  faces  are  almost 
as  greatly  deformed  as  their  feet  by  the  hideous  Chinese 
custom  of  combing  the  hair  tightly  back  from  the  fore- 
head. More  numerous  than  the  women  are  children  of 
both  sexes,  dressed  in  the  most  gaudy  green,  blue,  and 
other  costumes  and  caps.  Their  round  cherubic  faces, 
sparkling  eyes,  and  fresh,  healthy  complexion  present 
a  cheerful  contrast  to  the  sallow  complexion,  sunken 
cheeks,  and  hollow  eyes  of  the  adults,  victims  of  opium- 
smoking  and  other  forms  of  dissipation. 


116  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN. 

Chinatown  in  the  daytime  may  be  freely  visited  by  the 
"Melican"  man  and  woman.  At  night  it  is  advisable 
to  take  a  policeman  or  a  guide,  and  leave  the  women 
at  home,  unless  their  nerves  are  shock-proof.  The 
scene  at  night  differs  from  that  in  the  daytime;  for 
whereas  in  the  morning  Chinatown  seems  little  more 
than  a  big  market-place,  at  night  it  is  one  vast  barber- 
shop in  which  half  the  population  seems  to  be  engaged 
in  shaving  and  mutilating  the  other  half.  There  are  no 
curtains  ;  and  if  you  stop  a  minute  and  look  into  one  of 
the  tiny  shops  on  the  ground  floor  or  in  the  cellar,  you 
will  see  a  tonsorial  artist  deftly  shaving  his  victim's 
head,  chin,  eyebrows,  lashes,  nose,  clean  his  ears,  etc. 
Perhaps  you  are  standing  this  moment  over  a  Chinese 
dormitory ;  for  space  is  expensive  in  so  large  a  city,  and 
John  utilizes  every  inch  of  it  by  making  his  bed  under 
the  sidewalks.  We  follow  the  guide  into  subterranean 
haunts,  down  several  flights  of  rickety  stairs,  to  get  a 
peep  at  the  opium-dens.  It  is  estimated  that  there  is 
only  one  Chinaman  out  of  every  five  in  San  Francisco 
who  does  not  revel  in  his  daily  opium  debauch,  and 
even  that  fifth  man  uses  it  occasionally  as  a  sedative. 
Some  manage  to  get  drunk  on  ten  cents'  worth  a  day, 
while  others  need  as  much  as  a  dollar's  worth,  of  a 
superior  quality.  It  was  the  ten-cent  variety  we  saw 
on  this  tour.  The  guide  occasionally  drops  a  quarter 
in  certain  places,  and  is  in  return  allowed  free  access 
with  his  prote'ge's.  In  dingy  little  rooms,  not  much 
larger  than  a  state-room  in  a  steamer,  there  are  several 
bunks,  in  each  of  which  lies  or  sits  a  Chinaman,  in 
varying  stages  of  stupid  intoxication.  Some  are  already 
asleep,  others  are  just  lighting  their  pipes,  and  not  one 
of  them  pays  the  slightest  attention  to  the  intruders, 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  117 

unless  spoken  to.  One  helpless  old  wreck  lies  on  a 
bundle  of  rags,  which,  the  guide  said,  he  has  not  left 
for  five  years.  His  hands  and  face  are  mere  bones 
covered  with  yellow  parchment,  but  he  still  has  strength 
and  brains  enough  left  to  obey  the  guide  when  com- 
manded to  show  us  the  process  of  opium-smoking  by 
holding  a  little  lump  of  the  drug  in  the  flame  of  a  small 
lamp,  where  it  burns  and  is  turned  round  like  sealing- 
wax,  and  then  stuffed  into  the  small  pipe  and  smoked, 
the  fumes  being  inhaled  through  the  lungs  and  puffed 
out  through  the  nose.  It  is  not  a  pleasant  odor,  but  it 
doubtless  serves  to  disguise  other  odors  infinitely  worse. 
The  only  ventilation  in  these  rat-holes  is  a  little  slit, 
six  inches  by  two,  above  the  door :  yet  here  these 
Asiatics  spend  the  whole  night,  the  lodging  being  in- 
cluded in  the  price  of  the  opium.  In  one  place  we 
passed  through  a  kitchen  with  a  closet  in  the  middle  of 
it,  but  as  a  general  thing  we  did  not  find  subterranean 
Chinatown  as  filthy  as  it  has  often  been  described ;  cer- 
tainly not  so  bad  as  some  of  the  places  visited  in  New 
York  and  London  on  "  slumming "  excursions.  The 
fear  that  Chinatown  might  become  a  breeding-place  of 
bacterial  epidemics  leads  the  sanitary  authorities  to 
look  well  to  their  duties;  and  besides,  San  Francisco 
never  has  any  "  hot  waves,"  and  its  climate  is  in  other 
respects  unfavorable  to  pestilential  diseases,  so  that 
Chinatown  has  not  proved  such  a  plague  spot  as  it 
might  become  under  less  favorable  conditions. 

Many  tourists  who  are  anxious  to  see  the  opium-dens 
feel  inclined  to  draw  the  line  at  the  restaurants,  at  least 
so  far  as  eating  there  is  concerned.  But  there  are 
Chinese  restaurants  in  San  Francisco  which  vie  in  ele- 
gance of  furnishing  and  fine  gilded  carvings  with  the 


118  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN. 

most  famous  Parisian  cafe's.  A  good  cup  of  tea  can 
here  be  obtained,  and  there  can  be  no  harm  in  tasting 
the  half-dozen  kinds  of  preserves  and  cake  served 
with  it  —  all  for  twenty-five  cents.  There  is  preserved 
ginger,  and  small  oranges,  and  pickled  melon,  China 
nuts  and  other  delicacies,  and  a  sort  of  oyster-fork  to 
eat  them  with.  In  one  of  the  rooms  you  will  probably 
see  several  Chinamen  eating  a  sort  of  ragout  out  of  a 
large  bowl,  with  chopsticks — every  mouthful  being  first 
dipped  into  a  kind  of  sauce.  The  bowl  is  held  close  to 
the  mouth,  to  make  the  chopsticks  less  elusive  substi- 
tutes for  spoons.  Eating  with  chopsticks  is  exciting 
and  somewhat  like  fishing :  you  never  know  when  you 
will  get  the  next  bite. 

The  thing  to  visit  next  is  one  of  the  temples,  or  Joss 
Houses,  of  which  there  are  dozens  in  the  city,  some 
belonging  to  trade  associations.  Visitors  are  allowed 
to  go  behind  the  altars  as  close  to  the  hideous  idols  as 
they  please,  the  keepers  themselves  seeming  to  look 
upon  their  charge  as  a  sort  of  dime  museum ;  and  as 
the  admission  is  free,  they  try  to  earn  an  honest  penny 
by  selling  little  bundles  of  incense  tapers  to  visitors. 

It  is  getting  late,  and  they  are  ready  to  lock  the  door 
after  we  are  out ;  but  the  theatre  is  still  a-going,  and  to 
that  we  now  repair.  As  the  floor  is  crowded,  we  walk 
right  on  to  the  stage,  through  a  side  gate,  and  sit  down 
near  the  actors.  Our  presence  does  not  jar  with  the 
scenery,  as  there  is  none  of  that  commodity  visible, 
unless  it  be  the  band,  which  occupies  the  centre  of  the 
stage  and  fills  the  air  with  Mongolian  noise  and  disso- 
nance. The  instruments  may  be  described  as  a  gong 
or  cymbals,  a  stick  struck  rapidly  on  a  noisy  board,  and 
an  embryonic  banjo  and  violin  which  sounds  like  a 


SAN   FKANCISCO   AND   CHINATOWN.  119 

hysterical  oboe.  Yet  there  is  melody  and  harmony 
occasionally  in  these  last  two  instruments,  which  almost 
incessantly  accompany  the  actors'  words,  as  in  a  modern 
music-drama,  leaving  their  noisy  neighbors  to  emphasize 
the  murders  and  other  striking  episodes.  The  actors 
sometimes  stand  on  the  stage  floor,  sometimes  on  a  chair 
or  table.  Their  declamation  is  a  sing-song  in  a  high 
falsetto  voice.  There  are  no  women,  but  the  best  actor 
is  an  impersonator  of  female  r61es,  and  has  his  face 
painted  and  his  hair  combed  back  in  the  most  "  stylish  " 
way.  The  faces  of  these  actors  are  utterly  void  of 
expression.  Having  heard  enough  of  their  play,  we 
went  into  the  green-room,  where  one  of  the  actors 
explained  to  us  his  costumes  and  their  prices  in  China. 
In  a  corner  there  was  tea  on  tap,  to  which  every  one 
seemed  to  resort  at  intervals  of  five  minutes.  We  went 
out  by  the  other  stage  door,  and  stood  in  the  very  centre 
of  the  stage,  watching  the  musicians ;  yet  our  presence 
there  did  not  seem,  in  the  least  to  disconcert  the  spec- 
tators, who,  with  hats  on,  were  attending  to  the  play 
with  open-mouthed  interest,  though  they  never  ap- 
plauded or  laughed  or  gave  any  other  signs  of  approval 
or  disapproval.  Sometimes,  however,  they  do  throw 
cigar-ends  and  other  objects  at  actors  who  offend  them 
by  their  art  or  sentiments. 

Dime  museums,  shooting-galleries,  dirty  little  res- 
taurants, cheap  drug  and  clothing  stores,  and  similar 
places  generally  mark  the  transition  from  Chinatown  to 
San  Francisco  proper.  In  one  or  two  streets  the  transi- 
tion is  of  a  different  sort,  leading  gradually  through 
more  elegant  Chinese  stores  and  wholesale  houses  to 
the  American  quarters.  San  Francisco  has  many  fine 
streets,  in  strolling  through  which  one  can  easily  believe 


120  SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   CHINATOWN. 

the  statements  that  the  city  has  one-third  of  all  the 
wealth  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  harbors  fifty  millionnaires, 
and  has  exports  including  treasure  to  the  value  of 
more  than  a  hundred  million  dollars  a  year.  Such 
streets  as  Market,  Kearney,  Montgomery,  and  Post 
would  attract  attention  even  in  Paris  or  London,  and 
there  is  evidence  of  general  prosperity  in  the  numer- 
ous elegant  residences  as  well  as  in  the  thronged  busi- 
ness streets.  Of  late,  an  uneasy  feeling  has  betrayed 
itself  over  the  rivalry  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway 
and  its  harbor  town,  Vancouver,  in  attempting  to  secure 
the  trade  with  Japan  and  China,  the  distance  being 
somewhat  in  favor  of  Vancouver.  But  there  is  plenty 
of  room  for  several  large  cities  on  the  Pacific  Coast ;  and 
San  Francisco,  having  the  only  good  harbor  between 
San  Diego  and  Puget  Sound,  need  not  be  afraid  of 
retrograding  if  the  Canadians  get  some  of  the  tea  trade. 
Even  if  they  should  get  the  whole  of  the  Asiatic  trade, 
which  is  impossible,  the  handling  and  shipping  of  Cali- 
fornia wine,  fruit,  and  agricultural  products  would  suf- 
fice always  to  make  San  Francisco  one  of  the  three  or 
four  largest  cities  in  America ;  and  the  opening  of  the 
Nicaragua  Canal  will  give  its  trade  a  new  and  great 
impetus. 

Market  Street  is  the  Broadway  of  San  Francisco,  but 
it  differs  from  Broadway  in  New  York  in  being  as 
crowded  in  the  evening  as  in  the  daytime.  Yet  the 
evening  crowd  is  not  the  same  as  the  day  crowd,  being 
bent  on  pleasure  merely,  like  the  multitudes  which 
promenade  in  the  alamedas  of  Spanish  cities,  late  in  the 
afternoon.  San  Franciscans  are  too  busy  to  give  up  the 
afternoon  hours  to  pleasure,  so  they  have  their  daily 
street  review  and  reception  between  eight  and  ten 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND   CHINATOWN.  121 

o'clock  in  the  evening,  during  which  hours  Market 
Street  is  as  crowded  as  Fifth  Avenue  on  Sunday  after- 
noons. The  throng  comes  to  an  abrupt  end  a  block  or 
two  above  the  Palace  Hotel,  and  visitors  stepping  thence 
into  a  comparatively  deserted  street  are  apt  to  be  sur- 
prised on  suddenly  finding  that  they  have  to  elbow 
their  way  through  a  dense,  moving  mass  of  men  and 
women.  It  seems  strange  that  the  crowd  should  not 
include  the  Palace  Hotel  in  its  promenading  line,  so  as 
to  give  the  guests  in  the  large  bay-windows,  which 
make  up  the  entire  front  of  this  immense  structure,  a 
chance  to  review  it.  San  Franciscans  are  fond  of  boast- 
ing of  this  as  being  the  largest  hotel  in  the  world,  and 
one  of  the  most  sumptuously  furnished,  having  cost 
about  seven  million  dollars.  Few  cities,  indeed,  are  so 
well  supplied  with  good  hotels  as  San  Francisco,  which 
has  four  of  the  first  rank  besides  the  Palace.  There 
are  accommodations  and  prices  to  suit  all  purses,  but  I 
do  not  believe  there  is  another  city  in  the  world  where 
one  can  get  such  an  elegantly  furnished,  spacious  room, 
with  board,  for  three  dollars  a  day,  as  on  the  upper 
floors  of  the  Palace,  where  the  air,  light,  and  view  are 
better  than  on  the  more  expensive  lower  stories.  The 
fare  is  generally  good  in  these  hotels,  as  it  ought  to  be 
in  the  metropolis  of  a  State  which  furnishes  all  the  sta- 
ples and  delicacies  of  the  table  in  abundance  and  always 
in  season.  Butcher's  meat,  however,  as  elsewhere  on 
the  coast,  is  frequently  tough,  and  poultry  seems  to  be 
exceedingly  scarce  or  expensive,  for  it  is  seldom  seen  on 
the  bill  of  fare.  There  are  some  restaurants,  too,  where 
good  meals  can  be  obtained;  but  it  makes  one  in- 
dignant to  find  that  even  here  in  the  chief  city  of 
California,  some  of  the  restaurateurs  are  too  idiotic, 


122  SAN    FRANCISCO    AND    CHINATOWN. 

or  dishonest,  or  both,  to  furnish  California  wines  under 
California  labels  at  sensible  prices.  The  California 
wines  are  there,  of  course,  but  under  French  labels  and 
at  fancy  prices,  varying  from  two  to  five  dollars; 
whereas,  if  the  wine  (which  is  really  much  better  and 
purer  than  nine-tenths  of  all  imported  French  clarets) 
were  honestly  labelled,  it  could  be  sold  at  a  quarter 
of  those  prices.  The  same  humbug  flourishes  in  most 
Eastern  restaurants,  but  here  one  would  think  the  mob 
would  rise  in  its  patriotic  indignation  and  State  pride, 
and  summarily  -expel  these  short-sighted,  swindling 
restaurateurs.  Claret  is  so  cheap  by  the  gallon  that  it 
ought  to  be  served  free  with  meals,  as  in  Spain,  instead 
of  that  deadly  American  drink,  ice-water. 

There  are  cheap  eating-houses  in  San  Francisco  where 
a  poor  man  can  get  soup,  meat,  a  dish  of  vegetables,  and 
a  glass  of  claret  or  beer,  — all  for  ten  cents.  There  is  no 
exaggeration  in  Mr.  J.  S.  Hittell's  statement  that  "  the 
wages  of  labor  are  still  fifteen  to  thirty  per  cent  higher 
than  on  the  other  side  of  the  continent,  and  fifty  to 
one  hundred  per  cent  higher  than  in  Europe,  while  the 
cost  of  living  is  lower  than  in  either."  Notwithstand- 
ing Chinese  competition  (about  which  a  great  deal  too 
much  fuss  is  made  in  California,  since  the  Chinamen 
are  absolutely  needed,  especially  in  harvest-time),  it  is 
doubtless  true  that  there  are  few  places  in  the  world 
where  the  laboring-man  fares  so  well  as  here,  owing  to 
the  cheapness  of  provisions  and  the  ease  with  which  a 
cheap  suburban  residence  on  the  back  hills  or  across  the 
bay  may  be  reached. 

In  the  matter  of  picturesque  suburbs,  San  Francisco 
is  admirably  supplied.  Cross  the  bay  in  any  direction, 
and  you  will  find  no  end  of  fine  sites  for  villas  or  towns, 


SAN   FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  123 

and  the  suburban  capabilities  of  the  islands  which  beau- 
tify the  bay  have  hardly  begun  to  be  exploited.  Every 
half-hour  a  large  and  comfortable  ferry  crosses  the  bay 
directly  east  to  Oakland,  noted  as  a  city  of  elegant 
homes.  A  few  miles  beyond  lies  Berkeley,  the  Cam- 
bridge of  California,  being  the  site  of  the  University  of 
California.  But  neither  Cambridge  in  New  England 
nor  in  Old  England  has  a  view  to  compare  with  that 
obtainable  from  Berkeley  University  and  the  hills  ris- 
ing up  behind  it,  —  a  view  which  includes  San  Francisco, 
the  bay,  looking  like  a  large  lake,  and  some  fine  moun- 
tain groups.  Here  is  some  of  the  best  society  to  be 
found  in  the  West,  and  connected  with  the  University 
is  a  gallery  and  good  library  for  the  use  of  the  students, 
whose  ranks  generally  include  seventy  or  eighty  young 
women. 

Another  ferry  runs  from  the  city  northward  to  the 
charming  suburb  of  Saucelito,  which,  although  but  a 
few  miles  away,  has  a  climate  eight  degrees  warmer  in 
winter  than  San  Francisco,  being  sheltered  by  a  high  hill 
from  the  violent  trade  winds  and  the  fogs  which  find 
free  access  through  the  Golden  Gate,  where  they  enter 
in  order  to  take  the  place  of  the  vacant  spaces  left  by 
the  rising  of  the  air  in  the  heated  Sacramento  Valley 
of  the  interior.  Saucelito  is  the  favorite  picnic  ground 
of  San  Franciscans,  and  it  commands  superb  views  of 
the  bay  and  its  islands,  the  city,  and  the  Golden  Gate  . 
but  its  building-ground  is  limited,  since  the  parts  un- 
sheltered by  the  wall  of  the  hill  are  exposed,  more  even 
than  the  city  opposite,  to  wind  and  weather.  These 
trade  winds  and  fogs  constitute  the  greatest  drawback 
of  the  climate  of  San  Francisco,  and  make  it  unsuited 
for  invalids,  even  in  summer.  For  owing  to  the  trade 


124  SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN. 

winds  and  the  effect  of  the  Japan  current,  arriving  via 
Alaska,  there  are  only  seven  days  in  a  year  when  the 
thermometer  rises  to  80° ;  and  the  mean  temperature  of 
July  is  60°,  or  17°  lower  than  in  New  York.  Hence  sea- 
bathing is  a  pleasure  rarely  indulged  in  near  San  Fran- 
cisco, the  temperature  of  the  water  being  only  53°  in 
July,  — 10°  or  12°  lower  than  at  Santa  Barbara. 

Eastern  people,  and  especially  Europeans,  coming  to 
California  for  climatic  reasons  are  too  apt  to  forget  the 
immense  size  of  this  State  and  its  infinite  variety  of 
climates.  California,  if  transferred  to  the  Atlantic 
Coast,  would  extend  from  Boston  to  Charleston,  having 
as  much  coast  line  as  in  the  East  is  divided  between  ten 
States.  A  year  ago  I  crossed  the  ocean  with  an  Eng- 
lishman who  was  apparently  in  the  last  stages  of  bron- 
chitis, and  we  agreed  to  meet  in  January  at  San  Diego. 
He  had  not  appeared  in  April,  and  I  concluded  he  had 
died  on  the  way  across  the  Continent.  But  he  had 
gone  to  San  Francisco,  where  his  trouble  at  once  in- 
creased so  much  that  he  found  himself  in  a  worse 
condition  than  ever,  and  cursed  the  climate  and  the 
London  physician  who  had  sent  him  to  California. 
Fortunately,  a  friend  enlightened  him  on  the  diversity 
of  climate  in  California,  and  he  went  to  Santa  Barbara, 
where  I  accidentally  came  across  him,  looking  hale  and 
vigorous,  gaining  weight,  climbing  hills,  and  eating  like 
a  bear.  For  persons  with  weak  lungs,  therefore,  San 
Francisco  is  not  a  desirable  residence ;  but  for  healthy 
folk  it  is  an  ideal  climate,  because  the  temperature  is 
hardly  ever  oppressively  warm  or  uncomfortably  cold 
for  those  who  are  well  supplied  with  flannels.  If  there 
are  only  seven  days  a  year  when  the  thermometer  rises 
above  79°,  there  are,  on  the  other  hand,  only  five  days 


SAN    FRANCISCO   AND    CHINATOWN.  125 

in  a  year  when  it  falls  to  the  freezing-point.  Such  a 
climate  breeds  no  numbness,  lassitude,  sultriness,  dolce 
far  niente  ;  hence  the  San  Franciscan  is  energetic,  quick 
in  his  movements,  but  not  morbidly  nervous.  The  pale- 
faced  fragile  clerks  and  dudes  of  New  York  and  Phil- 
adelphia would  either  die  here  of  lung  disease,  or  if 
"  fit  to  survive  "  would  soon  assume  the  healthy,  robust 
appearance  of  San  Franciscans,  to  whose  strong  lungs 
the  trade  winds,  which  sweep  the  city  and  ever  renew 
its  atmosphere,  are  a  tonic  and  a  luxury. 


IX. 
LAKE  TAHOE  AND  VIRGINIA  CITY. 

CLIMATIC  PARADOXES  IN    SAN    FRANCISCO — A    LONG    FERRY- 
BOAT  SNOW-SHEDS       AND       DONNER      LAKE  —  TRUCKEE 

RIVER LOGGING   AND    FISHING  —  TAHOE  CITY  —  ROUND 

TRIP   ON   A    BOAT A     LAKE     AMIDST     SNOW     MOUNTAINS 

A  CINNAMON  BEAR BUTTERFLIES,  SNOW,  AND  A  BLUE 

SKY LARGE  TROUT,  AND  HOW  TO  CATCH  THEM SUN- 
SETS REFLECTED  IN  THE  LAKE OTHER  COLOR  PHENOM- 
ENA  THE  FLUME  TO  CARSON  VALLEY A  MOUNTAIN 

RAILWAY DESOLATE       NEVADA      MOUNTAINS  —  MINING 

UNDER   A    CITY GOLD    HILL. 

THE  climatic  conditions  of  San  Francisco  are  anom- 
alous and  curious ;  shade  trees,  for  instance,  which  are 
the  greatest  desideratum  and  blessing  in  Los  Angeles, 
are  not  desired  by  San  Franciscans,  because  the  air 
is  cool  enough  in  summer  without  artificial  shade.  On 
the  other  hand,  it  is  never  so  cold  but  that  many  semi- 
tropical  plants  will  survive  a  whole  winter  in  a  sheltered 
situation  outdoors ;  and  San  Francisco  has  in  its  public 
places  some  palm-trees  high  enough  to  attract  attention 
even  in  San  Diego.  The  avoidance  of  extremes  is  what 
constitutes  the  charm  and  value  of  the  climate  of  San 
Francisco.  But  if  the  natives  tire  of  this  "golden 
mean,"  and  desire  to  experience  the  extremes  for  the 
sake  of  variety,  they  can  gratify  their  wish  by  a  few 
126 


LAKE    TAHOE   AND  VIRGINIA   CITY.  127 

hours'  ride  on  the  Central  Pacific  Railroad.  At  Sacra- 
mento they  may  find  the  thermometer  above  ninety  in 
May,  and  just  beyond  it  a  place  where  oranges  ripen  six 
weeks  sooner  than  at  Los  Angeles  ;  while  the  station  of 
Summit,  a  few  hours  further  on,  may  be  buried  under 
four  or  five  feet  of  snow, — an  article  almost  unknown 
in  San  Francisco.  Californians,  however,  are  not  greatly 
addicted  to  the  habit  of  seeing  the  wonderful  sights  of 
their  State,  and  such  places  as  the  Yosemite  Valley,  the 
Big  Tree  Groves,  and  Lake  Tahoe  owe  their  fame  and 
vogue  chiefly  to  Eastern  and  foreign  tourists.  There 
are  now  half-a-dozen  transcontinental  routes  to  choose 
between,  so  that  it  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  every 
one  crosses  by  the  Central  Pacific ;  but  those  who  prefer 
the  Northern  or  the  Canadian  Pacific  should  not  neglect 
at  least  to  patronize  the  Central  Pacific  to  the  extent  of 
twenty  dollars  for  a  round-trip  ticket,  which  includes 
the  finest  scenery  along  the  whole  road,  —  the  semi- 
tropical  Sacramento  Valley,  the  sudden  transition  to  the 
snow-crowned  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  snow- 
sheds,  Donner  Lake,  with  a  side  excursion  to  Lake 
Tahoe,  and  the  silver  mines  in  Virginia  County,  Nevada. 
Lake  Tahoe  has  been  as  often  described  as  San  Fran- 
cisco ;  but  as  every  pair  of  eyes  looks  at  the  world  from 
its  own  point  of  view,  perhaps  I  may  be  allowed  to  tell 
briefly  what  I  saw.  Lake  Tahoe  has  only  been  known 
a  few  decades,  while  the  sights  of  Greece  and  Egypt 
were  described  two  thousand  years  ago,  and  are  still 
"  written  up  "  in  newspapers  and  periodicals. 

Until  two  years  ago  the  time-tables  of  the  Central 
Pacific  were  so  arranged  that  the  passengers  lost  all 
the  fine  mountain  scenery  between  Sacramento  and 
Reno  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  unless  they  took 


128  LAKE  TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA  CITY. 

an  emigrant  train.  Now,  however,  Donner  Lake  and  the 
snow  at  Summit  and  Cape  Horn,  where  the  train  rounds 
a  mass  of  precipitious  rock  over  an  abyss  two  thousand 
feet  below,  and  the  thirty-four  miles  of  snow-sheds,  which 
cost  the  company  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars, can  be  seen  by  getting  up  at  five  o'clock.  Previous 
to  this  we  come  upon  one  of  the  curiosities  of  Califor- 
nia, —  a  ferry-boat  four  hundred  and  twenty-four  feet 
long  and  one  hundred  and  sixteen  wide,  which  carries 
the  whole  train  across  a  branch  of  the  San  Francisco 
Bay,  thirty  miles  from  the  city.  It  is  dark,  and  the 
motion  is  imperceptible.  "  What  are  we  stopping  here 
for  so  long  ?  "  asks  a  lady  of  the  porter.  "  We  are  on  a 
ferry."  "  But  why  don't  they  start  ?  "  "  Why,  we  are 
half-way  over ! "  It  must  be  admitted  that  although 
the  change  in  the  time-table  is  an  improvement,  much 
of  the  Sierra  scenery  still  remains  unseen,  being  hid- 
den by  the  snow-sheds  in  which  the  train  moves  along 
mile  after  mile,  as  in  an  interminable  tunnel.  There 
are  a  few  gaps  and  window-holes  here  and  there,  but 
not  nearly  enough  to  give  the  passengers  a  satisfac- 
tory view  of  either  the  mountains,  or  of  the  lovely 
Donner  Lake.  This  lake  is  otherwise  unfortunate  in 
having  the  attention  drawn  from  its  fine  elongated 
outlines  and  mountainous  surroundings  by  the  eter- 
nal tale  which  some  one  in  every  seat  is  sure  to  tell 
of  the  unfortunate  Donner  party  of  emigrants  who  were 
snowed  in  here,  and  lost  thirty-four  of  their  eighty-one 
members  through  cold  and  starvation ;  or  else  some  one 
will  begin  to  tell  of  big  hauls  of  trout  recently  made, 
for  Donner  Lake  is  as  full  of  trout  as  Tahoe,  and  more 
convenient  to  the  city  markets. 

At  Truckee  we  leave  the  train  to  connect  with  the 


LAKE   TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA  CITY.  129 

Tahoe  stage.  This  is  only  a  rough,  lumbering  town, 
but  the  laws  of  etiquette  are  enforced  all  the  same  ;  for 
in  the  hotel  office  a  notice  is  posted,  that  "  Gents  are 
Requested  to  wear  their  Coats  in  the  Dining-room." 
We  comply  with  this  rule  the  more  readily  as  the 
temperature  at  this  early  morning  hour,  and  at  this 
height,  offers  no  inducement  for  sitting  in  our  shirt- 
sleeves. We  find  that  although  our  train  was  on  time, 
the  stage  with  which  we  were  to  connect  had  left  with- 
out us.  The  stage  company  is  in  an  evil  predicament.  It 
has  fifteen  miles  to  cover  between  Truckee  and  Tahoe  ; 
and  if  it  waits  for  the  train,  the  boat  at  Tahoe  City 
probably  will  not  wait  for  it.  However,  an  extra  stage 
was  provided  for  our  party,  and  the  driver  informed  us 
that  if  we  had  come  a  day  sooner  we  should  have  been 
caught  in  a  first-class  snow-storm  (this  was  about  the 
middle  of  May).  To-day,  however,  the  sun  was  out 
bright  and  warm,  melting  the  snow  rapidly,  without 
thereby  improving  the  road.  The  trees  still  had  on  a 
snow-costume,  fitting  as  snugly  as  if  tailor-made,  so  that 
while  there  was  not  a  speck  in  the  blue  sky,  every 
gust  of  wind  sprinkled  us  with  a  shower  of  loose  snow 
and  solid  crystals.  The  extraordinary  difference  in  Cal- 
ifornia between  shade  and  sunshine  was  prettily  dem- 
onstrated by  the  fact  that  although  the  sun  had  already 
melted  the  snow  on  and  near  the  small  shrubs,  little 
patches  of  it  remained  wherever  a  tiny  isolated  plant 
of  six  inches  cast  its  little  streak  of  shade. 

The  road  keeps  alongside  of  the  rapid  Truckee  River, 
which  forms  the  outlet  of  Lake  Tahoe  and  connects  it 
with  the  great  Pyramid  Lake  in  Nevada, —  being,  there- 
fore, like  the  Niagara,  not  a  river  in  the  ordinary  accep- 
tation of  the  term,  having  its  source  directly  in  the 


130  LAKE  TAHOE  AND  VIKGINIA  CITY. 

springs  or  melting  snows  and  its  mouth  in  the  ocean, 
but  a  mere  connecting  link  between  two  fresh-water 
lakes  entirely  isolated  from  the  ocean.  As  both  these 
lakes  are  alive  with  trout ,  —  Pyramid  even  more  than 
Tahoe,  owing  to  its  greater  size  and  difficulty  of  access, 
-  it  may  be  imagined  that  the  Truckee  is  good  fishing- 
ground.  Not  so  good,  however,  as  it  used  to  be;  for 
whereas  formerly  the  trout  used  to  come  up  the  Truckee 
from  Pyramid  Lake  in  great  numbers  to  spawn  in 
Tahoe,  a  dozen  dams  are  now  in  the  way,  impeding 
their  progress ;  and  the  difference  this  makes  is  already 
so  perceptible  that  last  year  the  fish  commissioners  had 
to  place  half  a  million  young  trout  in  Tahoe,  and  this 
year  a  still  larger  number  was  to  be  put  in,  since  in  a 
lake  twenty-two  miles  long  and  ten  wide,  half  a  million 
is  after  all  a  mere  handful.  Besides  trout,  there  are 
many  whitefish,  suckers,  chubs,  and  other  fish  in  this 
river,  and  the  driver  showed  us  a  deep  pool  in  which 
some  law-breaking  Chinamen  once  killed  over  three 
thousand  pounds  of  fish  by  a  dynamite  explosion. 

The  Truckee  River  is  also  utilized  by  the  lumbermen 
to  float  their  logs  to  market.  We  saw  many  of  the 
loggers  rolling  in  the  timber  and  wading  in  the  snow- 
water with  their  big  rubber  boots.  They  get  five  dollars 
a  day  and  board,  which  is  not  too  much,  considering 
that  their  amphibious  life  in  ice-water  exposes  them  to 
rheumatism  and  pneumonia;  while  at  the  same  time 
they  are  sure  to  earn  their  wages,  since  they  have  to 
keep  at  work  briskly  all  the  time  in  order  to  keep  warm. 
Slides  are  to  be  seen  on  the  mountain  sides,  on  which 
the  timber  is  shot  down  into  the  water,  and  the  driver 
had  a  story  of  an  Indian  who  once  for  a  bottle  of  whis- 
key tobogganed  down  on  one  of  these  logs,  saving  him- 


LAKE  TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA  CITY.  131 

self  by  a  plunge  in  the  pool  at  the  end.  It  sounded  like 
a  "California  story,"  but  was  told  with  so  much  cir- 
cumstantial detail  that  we  were  forced  to  believe  it. 
Near  its  outlet  at  the  lake  the  river  is  dammed,  and 
whenever  desirable  the  floodgates  are  opened,  and  the 
rush  of  liberated  waters  carries  the  timber  down  to  the 
station. 

By  and  by,  when  the  population  of  San  Francisco  has 
reached  over  half  a  million,  this  dam  will  doubtless  be 
raised  a  few  feet  and  the  Truckee  outlet  converted  into 
an  aqueduct.  It  will  cost  a  neat  little  sum,  for  it  takes 
the  train  eleven  hours  to  come  from  San  Francisco  to 
Truckee ;  but  the  city  needs  the  water,  as  its  present 
supply  is  of  poor  quality  and  inadequate.  With  Tahoe 
on  tap,  the  San  Franciscans  will  have  the  best  water  of 
all  the  cities  in  the  world ;  for  Tahoe  has  no  equal  in 
purity  and  clearness,  its  bottom  being  pure  gravel, 
without  a  trace  of  slime  or  mud,  so  that  stirring  it  with 
a  cane  does  not  cloud  it  the  least  shade.  But  before 
the  San  Franciscans  can  get  permission  to  swallow 
the  Truckee  River  they  will  have  to  reckon  with  the 
Nevadans,  who  utilize  it  extensively  for  milling  and  irri- 
gating purposes,  and  who,  moreover,  own  the  eastern 
half  of  Lake  Tahoe. 

Tahoe  City  is  situated  on  the  shore  of  the  lake,  not 
far  from  where  it  finds  an  outlet  in  the  Truckee  River. 
It  consists  of  a  dozen  houses,  including  a  "  Grand  Cen- 
tral Hotel "  and  a  boarding-house,  the  latter  being  open 
all  winter,  while  the  hotel  was  closed  when  I  was  there. 
The  boat  which  makes  a  round  trip  of  the  lake  every 
day  had  left  an  hour  before  we  arrived,  so  we  were 
obliged  to  stay  here  till  next  morning.  But  this  was  far 
from  being  a  misfortune,  for  Tahoe  City  commands  one 


132  LAKE  TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA  CITY. 

of  the  finest  views  on  the  whole  lake  shore.  Those  who 
arrive  in  the  morning  are  apt  to  feel  that  the  lake  does 
not  quite  come  up  to  its  reputation.  It  seems,  indeed, 
a  large,  majestic  body  of  water,  and  the  knowledge  that 
it  lies  as  high  above  the  level  of  the  ocean  as  the  sum- 
mit of  Mount  Washington  adds  to  its  apparent  grandeur ; 
but  the  sun  is  on  the  wrong  side,  and  the  profiles  of  the 
mountains  opposite  do  not  stand  out  clearly  enough. 
But  in  the  afternoon,  and  especially  towards  sunset, 
when  Tahoe  City  is  in  the  shade,  and  all  the  light  with- 
drawn from  it  seems  to  be  concentrated  on  those  moun- 
tain ridges,  intensified  by  reflections  from  the  glowing 
surface  of  the  lake,  then  the  snow-peaks  do  stand  out 
superbly  against  the  blue  sky  and  the  golden  clouds ; 
and  the  scene  becomes  truly  sublime  as  we  watch  the 
faint,  rosy  sunset  glimmer  gradually  climbing  one 
summit  after  another,  and  fading  away  till  only  one  tip 
retains  its  tinge,  thereby  proving  that  it  is  the  highest 
of  the  peaks,  though  seemingly  it  is  not.  Knowing  the 
rate  of  the  sun's  motion,  why  should  it  not  be  possible 
to  measure  the  height  of  inaccessible  mountains  by  thus 
watching  the  fading  sunset  glow  on  them?  An  old 
fisherman,  to  whom  I  described  the  Swiss  Alpgliilien, 
declared  that  he  had  never  seen  anything  just  like  it  at 
Tahoe,  but  the  scene  I  had  just  witnessed  was  a  very 
fair  substitute  for  it. 

Strolling  along  the  shores  of  Tahoe  one  can  enjoy  a 
solitude  as  profound  as  if  no  human  eye  has  ever  before 
gazed  on  this  liquid  mountain  mirror  in  a  Sierra  frame. 
A  few  logs  here  and  there,  in  the  water  or  washed 
ashore,  are  the  only  visible  signs  that  man  has  ever 
been  there.  The  faint,  distant  roar  of  a  torrent,  or  the 
mocking  of  that  sound  by  the  melancholy  voices  of  pines, 


LAKE  TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA  CITY.  133 

only  intensifies  the  feeling  of  isolation.  Two  weeks  pre- 
viously I  had  been  at  the  Yosemite,  where  the  flowers 
and  bushes  were  in  full  bloom ;  but  Tahoe  lies  two  thou- 
sand feet  higher,  and  some  distance  farther  north  than 
that  Valley,  hence  the  season  is  later.  The  first  flowers 
were  just  budding  out  here,  and  the  smooth,  alligator- 
skinned  manzanita  bush  was  only  in  flower,  while  at  Yo- 
semite it  had  already  formed  its  "little  apples  "  a  fortnight 
sooner.  There,  too,  the  hotels  were  open  in  the  middle  of 
April,  while  of  those  on  the  shores  of  Tahoe  only  one  had 
opened  its  doors  for  the  season,  and  the  fire  was  burning 
all  day  long  in  our  little  inn  at  Tahoe  City.  At  the 
supper-table  Nevada  beef  was  neglected  for  the  more 
succulent  lake-trout.  They  are  delicious,  especially  the 
silver  trout :  yet  I  saw  a  man  at  the  next  table  commit 
the  gastronomic  atrocity  of  putting  Worcestershire  sauce 
on  Tahoe  silver  trout.  Then  he  called  to  the  waiter- 
girl,  a  buxom,  rosy-cheeked  country  maiden,  for  a  tea- 
spoon —  probably  to  eat  it  with.  "  Great  Caesar ! "  ex- 
claimed the  maiden.  "  Haven't  you  got  a  spoon  ?  Why 
didn't  you  sing  out  ?  " 

Next  morning,  as  the  little  steamer  starts  with  us  on 
its  round  trip,  a  pleasant  surprise  is  in  store  for  us.  As 
seen  from  Tahoe  City  the  lake  had  seemed  so  perfect  as 
to  make  us  fancy  we  had  seen  about  all  there  was  of  it. 
But  hardly  have  we  left  the  pier  when  new  groups  of 
snow-capped  mountains,  grander  even  than  those  we  had 
been  gazing  upon,  arise  where  before  nothing  had  been 
visible  but  a  dense,  gloomy  forest.  And  when  we  get 
far  enough  towards  the  middle  of  the  lake  to  take  it  all 
in  at  a  glance,  we  find  that  it  is  indeed  a  mountain  lake, 
being  shut  in  on  all  sides  by  giant  peaks  rising  from 
nine  to  eleven  thousand  feet  above  sea-level.  There 


134  LAKE  TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA  CITY. 

is  reason  to  believe  that  the  site  of  the  present  lake  was 
once  a  monstrous  volcanic  crater.  It  is  now  a  reservoir 
in  which  is  stored  the  outflow  of  more  than  fifty  brooks 
and  creeks,  which  drain  an  area  of  about  five  hundred 
square  miles  of  mountains,  and  its  depth  is  from  fifteen 
hundred  to  eighteen  hundred  feet  —  water  enough  to 
extinguish  a  crater  of  even  such  vast  size.  It  is  a 
curious  fact  that  this  lake,  though  lying  more  than  a 
mile  above  sea-level  and  surrounded  by  snow-fields, 
never  freezes,  even  in  the  coldest  Sierra  midwinter. 
Perhaps  this  is  due  to  the  frequent  squalls  which  agitate 
its  surface  and  prevent  the  ice  from  gaining  a  foothold. 
These  squalls,  blowing  down  the  canons,  make  sailing 
on  the  lake  somewhat  risky  at  any  time  in  the  year,  and 
tourists  desiring  a  Christian  burial  for  their  mortal  re- 
mains will  do  well  to  avoid  sail-boats,  because  the  bodies 
of  those  who  are  drowned  here  are  never  recovered,  the 
coldness  of  the  water  preventing  decomposition  and 
the  formation  of  gases  which  would  bring  them  to  the 
surface. 

The  steamboat,  however,  does  not  fear  these  squalls, 
which  seem  to  strike  only  certain  limited  portions  of  the 
lake  at  a  time.  It  makes  half-a-dozen  or  more  stops  at 
points  where  there  are  summer  hotels,  which  are  open 
from  about  the  middle  of  May  to  the  end  of  October. 
Tallac's  opens  a  few  weeks  earlier,  and  I  made  that 
my  headquarters  for  a  few  days.  The  superb  view 
from  here  includes  Mt.  Tallac,  highest  of  the  Tahoe 
peaks,  bearing  on  its  hollow  sides  dazzling  Alpine  snow- 
fields,  so  large  that  one  looks  instinctively  for  solid  ice- 
rivers  at  its  lower  end ;  but  the  California  summer  sun 
does  not  tolerate  perennial  glaciers  even  at  these  Sierra 
heights,  and  the  straggling  pine-trees  sticking  up  like 


LAKE  TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA   CITY.  135 

stubbles  here  and  there  through  the  lower  nave's  indicate 
that  not  even  these  snow-fields  are  eternal  like  those  of 
Switzerland  or  Alaska.  But  in  early  May  the  scene  is 
still  quite  Alpine,  especially  the  immense  snow-ridge 
with  perpendicular  sides,  which  resembles  the  snow-wall 
that  connects  the  Monch  with  the  Jungfrau  as  seen 
from  Miirren. 

Tallac's  is  the  largest  of  the  hotels  on  Tahoe,  but  not 
large  enough  to  indicate  that  San  Franciscans  come 
here  in  vast  crowds  during  the  season.  The  reason  is 
obvious.  Though  scenically  incomparable,  Tahoe  is 
not  in  midsummer  as  cool  a  place  as  San  Francisco, 
which,  during  July  and  August,  is  the  coolest  place  on 
the  Pacific  Coast.  Were  Tahoe  within  eleven  hours' 
ride  of  sultry  New  York,  there  would  be  a  score  or  two 
of  hotels  on  its  bank  in  place  of  half-a-dozen.  Resi- 
dents say  it  was  Eastern  tourists  who  made  Tahoe  the 
resort  it  is  now.  Tallac's  is  situated  in  the  midst  of  a 
primitive  mountain  wilderness,  and  tourists  anxious  to 
see  a  wild  animal  in  its  native  haunts  will  have  no  great 
difficulty  in  gratifying  their  curiosity.  One  day  I  set 
out  to  climb  part  way  up  the  mountain  which  begins  to 
rise  about  a  mile  or  so  behind  the  hotel.  I  followed 
a  cow-path,  but  it  soon  was  lost  in  a  swamp  which  is 
fed  by  snow-water  brooks,  and  which  I  had  some  diffi- 
culty in  crossing.  Beyond  the  swamp,  on  beginning  to 
climb  the  mountain,  I  soon  found  myself  in  the  midst 
of  thousands  of  manzanita  bushes,  which  presented  a 
curious  spectacle.  The  branches  were  bowed  down 
by  heavy  snow,  which  formed  a  continuous  layer  over 
them  thick  enough  apparently  to  walk  on.  But  appear- 
ances were  deceptive  ;  for  as  soon  as  I  came  into  contact 
with  the  bushes,  the  snow  slipped  off,  the  liberated 


136  LAKE  TAHOE   AND  VIRGINIA   CITY. 

branches  flapped  against  my  face,  and  I  was  surprised 
to  find  them  covered  with  blossoms.  To  add  to  the 
contrast,  several  butterflies  were  flitting  about  in  the 
warm  sunlight.  It  takes  California  for  such  odd  mix- 
tures of  the  seasons,  —  snow-fed  swamps  haunted  by 
mosquitoes,  flowering  bushes  bowed  down  by  snow, 
under  a  blue  sky,  and  visited  by  butterflies. 

The  finishing  touch  was  given  by  a  large  cinnamon 
bear,  who  suddenly  hove  in  sight  only  a  few  hundred 
yards  below  me.  As  these  bears  are  considered  quite 
as  vicious  and  aggressive,  at  certain  times,  as  grizzlies, 
and  having  no  means  of  defence  except  an  olive  walk- 
ing-stick, I  concluded  not  to  molest  the  poor  beast,  but 
edged  off  quietly  to  the  left,  unseen,  and  made  my  way 
back  through  the  trackless  jungle  of  the  swamp.  In 
the  evening  I  met  two  ladies  who  had  been  out  alone 
in  the  afternoon  for  a  walk,  and  had  seen  "  a  large  yel- 
lowish animal  with  a  slender  body  and  a  long  tail." 
They  changed  color  on  hearing  that  it  was  undoubtedly 
a  California  lion,  and  made  a  vow  never  again  to  go 
into  the  woods  alone.  A  small  boy  who  is  attached  to 
the  hotel  as  a  guide  for  brook-trouting  parties  told 
us  his  bear  story,  which  had  a  somewhat  more  dramatic 
climax  than  mine.  He  went  fishing  alone  one  day,  and 
having  found  a  good  place,  he  tied  his  horse  to  a  tree, 
and  started  up  the  creek.  Suddenly  he  heard  a  crack- 
ling and  whining  noise  near  him,  and  at  the  same 
moment  a  cinnamon  bear  thrust  her  head  through  the 
brush.  A  small  tree  being  close  at  hand,  the  boy 
climbed  out  of  reach  just  as  the  bear  arrived  at  its  foot. 
She  was  in  a  dangerous  mood  because  she  had  her  two 
cubs  with  her ;  but  it  was  to  the  cubs  that  the  boy  owed 
his  release ;  for  after  a  moment  they  became  impatient 


LAKE   TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA   CITY.  137 

and  moved  away,  and  the  old  bear  followed  them.  As 
soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight,  he  slid  down  the  tree, 
ran  for  his  horse,  and  thus  survived  to  tell  the  tale. 

The  same  boy  assured  me  that  he  had  seen  trout 
caught  in  the  lake  weighing  twenty-two,  twenty-four, 
and  twenty-nine  and  three-quarters  pounds  respectively. 
This  being  both  a  fish  story  and  a  California  story, 
seemed  a  tough  combination;  but  in  the  morning  he 
took  me  out  in  a  boat  to  fish,  and  as  luck  would  have 
it,  we  were  followed  for  a  time  by  a  monstrous  trout  which 
must  have  weighed  fully  twenty-five  or  thirty  pounds. 
He  would  not  take  the  bait,  however,  and  such  monsters 
are  not  often  caught,  the  average  catch  being  from  one 
to  three  pounds.  I  caught  three  in  a  couple  of  hours, 
weighing  together  about  four  pounds,  and  that  seemed 
to  be  considered  a  good  catch  at  the  hotel  for  that 
season.  Fishing  luck  at  Tahoe  varies  greatly  with  the 
season,  the  time  of  day,  and  the  knowledge  and  skill  of 
the  fisherman.  The  best  place  to  throw  the  line  is  just 
where  the  water  becomes  so  deep  that  the  bottom  is  no 
longer  visible.  Row  slowly  all  the  time,  and  let  out  a 
very  long  line,  with  a  very  bright  silver  spoon,  to  attract 
the  game.  The  bright  spoon  seemed  to  be  of  prime 
importance ;  for  I  had  one  and  caught  three  fish,  while 
the  boy,  who  had  a  dull  spoon,  did  not  get  a  bite. 
Whole  minnows  are  used  as  bait,  and  the  catching  of 
these  in  a  brook,  or  in  the  lake  with  bread  crumbs  and 
a  net,  gives  employment  to  a  thin,  mummified  old  Indian 
who  haunts  the  premises. 

Another  local  character  is  old  Yank,  who  formerly 
owned  Tallac's  and  now  has  built  a  rival  hotel  on  a 
smaller  scale  near  by.  Yank  is  eighty-two  years  of  age, 
and  he  presents  a  unique  sight,  standing  upright  in  his 


138  LAKE  TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA   CITY. 

boat,  propelling  it  with  one  oar  and  jerking  his  fish-line 
with  the  other  hand.  His  clothes  are  greasy  rags  and 
tatters,  and  he  himself  boasts  that  his  baths  are  about 
as  frequent  as  the  blossoming  of  the  century  plant.  Yet 
his  cheeks  are  rosy,  his  frame  vigorous,  his  voice  firm, 
and  eyes  sparkling,  bearing  eloquent  testimony  to  the 
tonic  value  of  the  combined  lake  and  mountain  air  of 
Tahoe.  He  has  lived  here  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  cen- 
tury. With  pride  he  showed  me  some  boats  lying  in 
the  yard  which  he  had  constructed  and  painted  with  his 
own  hands,  and  the  use  of  which  was  to  be  free  to  the 
guests  (this  was  aimed  at  the  other  hotel).  He  seemed 
to  feel  somewhat  conscious  of  his  tramplike  appearance, 
and  explained  that  those  were  only  his  winter  clothes, 
and  that  as  the  season  opened  he  would  have  to  dress 
up  "on  account  of  the  ladies."  An  enormously  fat 
and  large  dog  is  his  companion.  "  Fat  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
echoing  my  exclamation,  —  "fat?  You  ought  to  see 
my  wife ! " 

The  salubrious  Tahoe  air  is  responsible  for  an  appe- 
tite which  would  fatten  a  consumptive.  But  if  the 
dinner-bell  coincides  with  sunset  and  its  concomitant 
celestial  fireworks,  it  would  be  an  exhibition  of  the 
purest  animality  to  go  and  eat.  The  end  of  the  long 
pier  is  a  good  place  to  see  the  colored  sunset  clouds, 
but  better  still  is  it  to  take  a  boat  and  row  a  mile  or 
two  from  shore.  About  sunset  the  wind  usually  sub- 
sides, and  Tahoe  becomes  as  placid  and  perfect  a  mirror 
as  the  famous  Mirror  Lake  in  the  Yosemite,  but  on  an 
infinitely  larger  scale.  Here  are  not  only  mountain 
peaks  and  pine-wooded  shores  reflected'  in  the  water, 
but  the  whole  sky,  with  its  sunset  clouds,  more  bril- 
liantly colored  and  more  fantastically  shaped  than  any- 


LAKE  TAHOE   AND  VIKGINIA  CITY.  139 

where  in  the  world,  is  mirrored  below.  The  earth  no 
longer  seems  a  hemisphere,  but  a  perfect  symmetrical 
globe  with  the  spectator  in  the  centre,  floating  on  the 
invisible  water  like  a  disembodied  spirit.  I  have  never 
been  up  in  a  balloon,  but  I  do  not  believe  that  even 
ballooning  can  make  one  so  vividly  realize  what  must  be 
the  sensations  of  an  eagle  soaring  with  outspread, 
motionless  wings  through  the  azure  ether.  However, 
Tahoe  does  not  need  these  colored  cloud  reflections  as 
borrowed  plumes  to  adorn  itself  with.  Its  own  varied 
and  ever-changing  surface-colors  are  equally  enchanting, 
though  more  sombre  and  melancholy.  There  are  sev- 
eral zones  of  color.  The  shore  is  lined  with  sand,  coarse 
as  bird-shot  and  clean  as  the  water  itself,  and  for  a  dis- 
tance of  several  hundred  yards  this  sand  is  visible  as  we 
row  into  the  lake,  corrugated  by  the  waves  like  the  tiny 
furrows  in  the  palms  of  our  hands,  and  giving  the  water 
a  yellowish  tint.  Farther  in,  it  becomes  blue,  gradually 
shading  into  so  deep  a  hue  that  we  are  ready  to  believe 
that  a  ship  with  a  cargo  of  indigo  must  have  gone  down 
here,  and  feel  tempted  to  dip  a  pen  into  it  to  see  if  it 
will  do  to  write  with ;  but  dip  up  a  glassful,  and  it  is  as 
clear  and  colorless  as  if  it  had  just  spouted  from  an 
artesian  well,  and  as  cold. 

An  artist  endowed  with  the  courage  to  reproduce 
these  colors  realistically  would  surely  be  denounced 
by  the  critics  as  a  visionary  idealist.  But  no  artist 
could  ever  paint  them  as  they  appear  to  the  eye,  be- 
cause no  palette  has  ever  held  colors  so  rich  and  deep 
and  at  the  same  time  so  delicate  and  transparent.  And 
still  less  than  the  sombre  brilliancy  of  these  colors  could 
a  painter  reproduce  an  idea  of  their  movements,  in 
which  lies  half  their  charm.  Cloud  shadows  climbing 


140  LAKE  TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA   CITY. 

up  a  mountain  side  are  a  fascinating  sight,  but  not  to  be 
compared  with  the  spectacle  of  the  irregular  patches 
of  color  that  are  chased  by  the  wind  across  the  crests  of 
the  Tahoe  wavelets,  like  semi-liquid  purple,  green  and 
violet  mists,  vanishing  in  the  distance  into  air,  and  fol- 
lowed by  other  color-waves  in  rapid  succession.  The 
best  place  to  enjoy  this  unique  spectacle  is  not  in  front 
of  the  hotel,  where  the  trees  act  as  a  wind-break,  but  to 
the  left,  near  the  first  bridge.  As  I  stood  here  the  first 
morning,  a  brisk  breeze  was  blowing,  with  a  clear  blue 
sky  overhead.  Looking  leewards,  the  water  nearest  the 
shore  appeared  gray,  bordered  by  a  light  violet,  with 
yellowish  and  purple  patches ;  then  came  a  deep  green 
streak,  followed  by  a  broader  indigo  band,  and  finally  a 
deep  violet  field,  bounded  by  a  faint  mist  raised  a  little 
above  the  surface  of  the  water  and  slightly  veiling  the 
mountains.  Every  morning  the  details  were  new,  and 
would  have  been  so,  no  doubt,  had  I  remained  four 
hundred  instead  of  four  days.  Tourists  go  into  raptures 
over  the  waving  motions  of  the  Western  wheat-fields,  but 
what  are  these  monochromes  to  the  polychromatic  waves 
that  chase  one  another  across  Tahoe? 

In  making  the  circuit  of  the  lake,  we  had  passed  a 
place  where  a  railway  was  seen  climbing  up  the  steep 
lake-side,  not  far  from  the  little  town  of  Glenbrook. 
This  railroad  is  a  connecting  link  between  Lake  Tahoe 
and  the  distant  silver  mines  at  Virginia  City.  At  first 
sight  the  connection  between  an  inclined  railway  on  the 
shore  of  Lake  Tahoe  and  the  Virginia  City  silver  mines 
seems  as  enigmatic  as  that  pointed  out  by  Darwin  as 
existing  between  old  maids  and  clover-fields.  But  the 
mystery  is  easily  explained.  Nevada  is  as  treeless  as 
the  greater  part  of  Spain ;  wherefore  the  miners  have  to 


LAKE   TAHOE  AND   VIBGIN1A   CITY.  141 

come  to  California  for  fuel,  and  for  planks  to  build  their 
shafts.  Lake  Tahoe  is  surrounded  by  densely  wooded 
hills  which  are  gradually  being  denuded  to  supply  the 
demands  of  the  Nevadan  miners.  The  logs  are  floated 
across  the  lake,  hauled  up  the  hill  on  the  railway,  and 
cut  up  into  boards  and  planks,  which  are  thence  floated 
down  in  a  V-shaped  flume  to  Carson,  whence  they  are 
taken  by  another  mountain  railroad  to  Virginia  City. 
No  visitor  to  Tahoe  should  fail  to  follow  these  planks 
to  Carson  and  be}rond  —  not  necessarily  in  the  flume, 
but  by  taking  the  stage  at  Glenbrook.  The  stage  road 
to  Carson  is  dusty,  but  most  interesting.  The  first  half 
of  it  is  all  up  hill,  the  second  half  of  it  is  all  down  hill, 
and  the  distance  fourteen  miles.  Just  before  we  reach 
the  summit,  Tahoe  once  more  shows  its  face  and  casts 
a  parting  glance  at  us.  Then  we  get  a  splendid  view  of 
the  Carson  Valley,  deep  down  below  us,  and  walled 
in  on  the  other  side  by  chain  upon  chain  of  bare,  deso- 
late, lofty  mountain  ridges.  Unprotected  by  tree  or 
stump,  the  snow  has  melted  from  even  the  highest 
peaks,  and  the  snow-peaks  which  we  see  later  (and 
which  seem  to  justify  the  name  of  Nevada  or  "snowy  ") 
are  in  California.  We  stop  at  a  wayside  inn  for  a  mo- 
ment, and  a  comely  young  girl  asks  the  driver  if  there 
is  "  room  for  one  more."  But  a  stage  is  not  a  street 
car,  and  the  driver  had  to  confess  that  he  was  "  afraid 
not,  Nellie,  unless  one  of  the  men  will  hold  you  on  his 
lap."  Nellie  looked  non-committal ;  and  if  none  of  the 
passengers  spoke  and  offered  to  take  her,  this  was  surely 
owing  to  bashfulness,  and  not  to  a  lack  of  gallantry. 

Once  or  twice  the  driver  stopped  to  collect  a  letter 
that  had  been  placed  in  a  box  fixed  on  a  post  by  the 
the  roadside.  To  prevent  useless  stoppages  and  delay, 


142  LAKE  TAHOE   AND   VIRGINIA  CITY. 

these  letter-boxes  are  uncovered,  and  the  depositor  has 
to  take  his  chances  of  rain,  which,  however,  are  hardly 
worth  considering  in  summer.  Frequently  we  cross  the 
flume,  or  drive  alongside  of  it,  but  of  course  it  makes  a 
shorter  cut  to  Carson  than  the  stage-road,  and  in  some 
places  descends  at  such  a  steep  angle  that  the  timber  in 
it  is  said  to  be  carried  along  at  railroad  express  speed. 
Half  a  million  feet  of  timber  can  be  thus  floated  down 
in  a  day,  provided  there  are  none  of  those  jams  which 
sometimes  extend  for  half  a  mile  along  the  flume  and 
cause  much  trouble.  Just  before  entering  Carson  we 
come  to  the  end  of  the  flume,  where  the  timber  is 
dropped,  and  piled  up  in  rows  of  interminable  length. 
The  Carson  Valley,  through  which  we  had  been  pass- 
ing, is  dry,  dusty,  and  entirely  devoid  of  trees,  and  the 
town,  therefore,  with  its  surrounding  green  meadows 
and  fine  rows  of  shade  trees  lining  the  streets,  seemed 
like  an  oasis  in  the  desert. 

Carson,  the  capital  of  Nevada,  has  some  good  public 
buildings,  and  about  four  thousand  inhabitants,  but  is 
not  likely  ever  to  have  many  more.  It  was  crowded  on 
this  occasion  with  visitors  from  the  country,  and  Piute 
Indians  with  their  squaws  and  pappooses  were  loiter- 
ing at  every  street  corner.  The  monstrous,  startling 
circus  posters  pasted  everywhere  explained  this  influx 
from  the  country  and  neighboring  towns.  It  was  nothing 
more  nor  less  than  Sells  Brothers'  "  Enormous  United 
Shows";  "  A  Grand  Olympian  Festival";  "The  Eureka 
of  Canvas  Entertainments  "  ;  "Prodigious,  Overshadow- 
ing, and  Enormous  " ;  "  Gigantic,  Sweeping,  and  Bril- 
liant Centralization  of  Sterling  and  World-Endorsed 
Entertainments "  ;  "  Fully  a  Century  in  Advance  of 
all  Contemporaries."  I  bowed  my  head  in  awe  on 
reading  these  announcements. 


LAKE   TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA   CITY.  143 

The  appearance  of  the  women  and  girls  in  this  circus 
crowd  did  not  seem  to  indicate  that  the  climate  of  Carson 
Valley  is  invigorating,  or  its  resources  fattening.  Though 
they  wore  white  dresses,  they  looked  so  thin  and  sharp 
that  it  seemed  a  wonder  the  strong  wind  did  not  carry 
them  off  bodily.  On  account  of  the  circus  there  were 
extra  trains,  but  not  enough  cars,  so  that  half  the  pas- 
sengers had  to  stand.  'Twas  always  so,  said  a  local 
privileged  jester ;  "  You  never  can  get  enough  of  Car- 
son." This  train,  en  route  for  Virginia  City,  took  home 
those  who  had  attended  the  matine'e.  For  the  evening 
performance  another  extra  train  was  to  be  sent  down  all 
the  way  from  Virginia  City,  which  appears  not  to  have 
held  out  sufficient  inducements  to  the  circus  company 
to  come  up,  so  that  "  it  served  them  right  if  they 
got  left  and  had  to  come  down  to  Carson,"  as  one  of 
the  passengers  remarked,  with  much  feeling.  This 
railroad  from  Carson  to  Virginia  affords  one  of  the 
most  marvellous  and  entertaining  rides  in  the  world. 
The  puffing  of  the  engine  would  tell  a  blind  man  how 
steep  is  the  grade  all  the  way  up ;  and  how  crooked  and 
winding  the  road  is,  may  be  inferred  from  the  printed 
notice  to  employees  that  fifteen  miles  an  hour  is  the 
highest  speed  allowed.  Sometimes  the  engineer  might 
almost  shake  hands  with  a  man  on  the  last  platform ; 
and  there  is  a  story  of  an  engineer  who  jumped  off  the 
locomotive  on  seeing  a  red  light  straight  ahead,  which 
proved  to  be  the  lantern  on  his  last  car.  Some  one 
has  added  these  curves  together  and  found  that  between 
Carson  and  Virginia  passengers  travel  seventeen  times 
round  the  circle.  Several  miserable  shanty  villages 
are  passed,  half  buried  in  empty  tin  cans,  and  as  we  get 
up  higher  the  outlooks  become  more  and  more  deso- 


144  LAKE  TAHOE   AND  VIRGINIA  CITY. 

late  and  rugged.  Even  Arizona  has  nothing  more 
bleak  and  naked  than  these  endless  vistas  of  Nevadan 
mountains.  No  tree  or  other  vegetation,  except  coarse 
sage  bush.  Yet  the  soil  is  said  to  be  fertile,  and  to 
need  only  water  to  make  it  valuable.  Deep  down  in 
the  canon  below  us,  where  the  Carson  River  winds 
along,  this  statement  is  verified  by  the  green  fields  and 
orchards  which  border  it.  Interminable  wooden  steps 
lead  down  from  the  railroad  stations  to  these  oases. 
"With  water,"  says  a  Nevadan,  "all  the  mountain 
sides  may  be  made  veritable  hanging  gardens  " ;  and  all 
that  is  needed  for  this  metamorphosis  is  to  store  the 
winter  water  in  artificial  canon-reservoirs  for  summer 
tapping. 

We  are  also  told  that  between  these  forbidding  bare 
mountain  ranges  lie  valleys  from  one  to  thirty  miles 
in  width,  but  hidden  by  the  intervening  ridges,  so  that 
the  State  as  a  whole  is  really  not  so  forbidding  as  it 
looks.  Little,  however,  has  been  done  so  far  in  agricul- 
tural development,  and  Nevada  is  still  almost  exclu- 
sively a  mining  State.  Were  it  not  for  the  mines  and 
the  mineral  deposit  in  dry  lake-beds,  there  would  be  no 
railway  except  the  Central  Pacific;  and  as  the  mines 
now  worked  are  much  less  productive  than  formerly, 
it  is  not  surprising  that  Nevada  should  be  the  only 
Western  State  whose  population  is  decreasing. 

It  cost  about  three  million  dollars  to  build  the  Vir- 
ginia and  Truckee  Railroad,  from  Reno,  on  the  Central 
Pacific,  to  Virginia  City  —  a  distance  of  fifty-two  miles, 
although  a  bee-line  would  make  it  only  about  seventeen 
miles.  Three  millions  may  seem  a  big  sum  for  so  short 
a  road,  but  it  led  to  a  region  whence  more  than  three 
hundred  and  fifty  million  dollars  in  gold  and  silver  have 


LAKE  TAHOE  AND   VIRGINIA  CITY.  145 

been  taken  by  mule,  ox-team,  stage,  and  rail,  since  the 
discovery  of  the  Comstock  Lode,  thirty  years  ago. 
Should  the  mines  ever  become  exhausted,  it  would  be 
worth  while,  though  it  might  not  pay,  to  keep  up  the 
road  as  a  scenic  route.  As  we  near  the  mining  regions, 
the  mountain  scenery  becomes  more  and  more  stupen- 
dous. We  pass  through  a  few  tunnels,  and  suddenly 
a  most  unique  view  is  spread  out  before  us  :  a  series  of 
immense  wooden  buildings  scattered  picturesquely  along 
the  mountain  sides,  like  mediaeval  castles,  though  with- 
out towers  or  other  architectural  features.  Smoke  is 
belched  forth  from  the  high  chimneys,  and  by  the  side 
of  every  such  building  is  a  huge  gray  mound  of  waste  ore, 
— the  accumulation  of  years.  Other  mounds  are  seen 
where  there  are  no  buildings,  but  only  holes  into  the 
mountain  side,  looking  as  if  some  gigantic  animal  had 
been  burrowing  and  thrown  out  the  soil.  These  mounds 
are  graves  in  which  some  miners'  dreams  of  millions  are 
buried. 

As  the  train  winds  along  and  up  the  hill-side,  these 
sights  disappear  and  reappear  repeatedly,  in  different 
groupings,  till  at  last  we  come  to  Silver  City,  the  first  of 
the  three  towns  which  perch  closely  together  on  the  side 
of  the  silver  mountain,  Mt.  Davidson,  about  seventeen 
hundred  feet  above  the  river,  and  as  far  from  the 
summit.  Mining  is  not  as  profitable  here  as  it  was 
formerly,  and  as  it  is  now  a  few  miles  beyond;  but 
there  are  many  small  gold  veins.  "  Nearly  every  head 
of  a  family  in  the  town,"  says  the  guide-book,  "  has  his 
own  mine ;  and  when  he  wants  money,  he  shoulders  his 
pick,  goes  out  to  his  mine,  and  digs  it,  as  a  farmer  in 
the  East  digs  a  *  mess '  of  potatoes." 

Two  miles  beyond  Silver  City  is  Gold  Hill,  which 


146  LAKE  TAHOE  AJtfD  VIRGINIA  CITY. 

once  had  as  many  inhabitants  as  Virginia  City  has  now, 
—  eight  thousand,  —  but  has  only  about  three  thousand 
at  present.  At  Virginia  City,  many  pleasant  surprises 
are  in  store  for  us.  In  this  aerial  town,  built  like  an 
eagle's  nest  on  the  side  of  a  rocky  mountain,  surrounded 
in  all  directions  by  similar  bleak  mountains  without  a 
sign  of  civilization  or  habitation  on  them,  you  naturally 
expect  to  take  up  lodging  in  a  one-story  shanty,  eat 
canned  beef,  and  sleep  on  a  cot ;  but  nothing  of  the 
sort.  Crawling  up  the  hill  —  everything  is  up  and 
down  hill  here  —  a  few  hundred  steps,  you  come  to 
the  International  Hotel,  six  stories  high,  with  elegantly 
furnished  rooms,  and  fare  good  enough  for  the  very 
reasonable  charges.  It  stands  in  the  principal  busi- 
ness street,  which  is  lined  on  both  sides  with  not 
only  such  indispensable  places  as  drug  stores,  grocers' 
and  butchers'  shops,  but  with  fine  jewelry  and  fancy 
stores,  and  even  book  and  music  stores.  Elegantly 
dressed  women,  many  of  refined  appearance,  promenade 
the  streets,  bent  on  shopping ;  and,  by  way  of  contrast, 
there  are  groups  of  squaws  sitting  on  the  rubbish  on 
corner  lots,  or  following  their  lords  and  masters. 

Every  block,  of  course,  has  its  saloon ;  for  aside  from 
the  naturally  bibulous  propensities  of  miners,  the  great 
dryness  of  the  air  at  this  elevation  creates  an  irresistible 
thirst  every  hour,  so  that  the  bar-keepers  must  do  a 
thriving  business.  Excepting  this  elevation  of  over  six 
thousand  feet,  there  is  little  here  to  mitigate  the  action 
of  the  sun's  rays,  which  in  summer  must  be  intolerable. 
The  trees  are  not  high  enough  to  afford  much  shade, 
having  been  destroyed,  like  everything  else,  in  the  great 
fire  of  1875.  But  that  fire,  which  annihilated  the  town, 
as  usual  taught  a  good  lesson,  and  now  there  is  a  hydrant 


LAKE  TAHOE  AND    VIRGINIA   CITY.  147 

at  every  corner  whence  water  can  be  forced  high  above 
the  highest  building  by  its  own  pressure,  no  engine 
being  needed.  The  waterworks  of  Virginia  are  perhaps 
the  most  interesting  in  the  world  —  both  above  and 
below  ground.  The  pipe  which  bridges  the  Washoe 
Valley  is  seven  miles  long  and  has  a  capacity  of  over 
two  million  gallons  a  day.  This  water  had  to  be 
brought  over  to  Mt.  Davidson  from  the  main  range  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada,  because  there  was  not  enough  on 
the  surface  of  Davidson.  Below  the  surface,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  was  an  ocean  of  unwelcome  water, 
hot  and  cold,  which  constantly  filled  up  the  shafts  and 
had  to  be  pumped  out  at  an  enormous  expense.  To 
overcome  this  trouble,  the  Sutro  tunnel  was  built 
1650  feet  below  the  surface,  and  almost  four  miles  in 
length.  Ten  million  gallons  of  water  have  passed 
through  this  tunnel  in  twenty-four  hours.  A  day  or 
two  can  be  profitably  spent  in  seeing  these  hydraulic 
wonders,  besides  the  reducing  mills,  with  their  ingenious 
machinery,  in  which  electricity  is  yearly  playing  a  more 
important  part,  economizing  power  by  transmitting  it  at 
different  points  from  the  Sutro  tunnel,  and  preventing 
waste  by  superior  processes  of  amalgamation.  Of  course 
no  tourist  must  fail  to  don  a  miner's  suit  in  order  to 
experience  a  sensation  like  that  of  falling  from  a  bal- 
loon in  descending  a  shaft,  and  to  feel  a  heat  more  sti- 
fling than  a  desert  blast.  It  is  the  strangest  thing  about 
this  strange  mountain  city  that  you  need  only  walk  a 
block  or  two  from  any  given  point  to  find  a  place  where 
you  can  descend  from  two  to  three  thousand  feet  into 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  till  the  six-foot  opening  at  the 
top  appears  no  bigger  than  a  hand. 

The  miners  only  work  a  few  hours  every  day,  an.d 


148  LAKE   TAHOB   AND   VIRGINIA  CITY. 

you  understand  why  when  you  come  back  to  daylight 
bathed  in  perspiration.  After  waiting  long  enough  to 
cool  off,  climb  to  the  top  of  Davidson.  Contrasts  are 
always  pleasant ;  and  none  more  so  than  this  transition 
from  half  a  mile  in  the  dark  interior  of  this  planet  to 
the  summit  of  a  mountain  which  rises  a  mile  and  a  half 
above  sea-level.  Davidson  is  isolated,  like  the  Rigi, 
and  the  view  is  therefore  very  extensive,  embracing  a 
large  portion  of  Nevada.  On  one  side  is  a  fine  circle 
of  Sierra  snow-peaks;  on  another,  Washoe  Lake,  and 
the  green  meadows  along  the  Truckee  River;  all  of 
which,  however,  —  snow,  meadow,  and  lake,  —  form 
mere  oases  amid  the  barren  wastes  of  illimitable  gray 
mountain  ranges.  A  flag-pole  has  been  erected  on  the 
summit  of  Davidson,  and  the  way  in  which  it  is  fastened 
by  means  of  granite  blocks  piled  on  high  and  iron  chains 
on  every  side,  indicates  the  strength  of  the  winter 
storms  at  this  altitude. 


MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

THE   OREGON  AND   CALIFORNIA  RAILROAD CALIFORNIA'S 

GRANDEST  MOUNTAIN ISOLATED  PEAKS  OF  THE  CASCADE 

RANGE  —  VOLCANIC  REMNANTS SISSON's INDIANS  AT 

HOME SOURCES    OF    THE    SACRAMENTO EFFECTS    OF 

RAIN  —  OREGON'S  NUMEROUS  RIVERS  —  FISH  AND  CRAW- 
FISH  SOUTHERN    OREGON A    MYSTERIOUS    MOUNTAIN 

LAKE THE  OREGON  NATIONAL  PARK THE  WILLAMETTE 

VALLEY OREGON   WHEAT   AND    FRUIT. 

WITH  the  exception  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  and  the 
Rio  Grande,  there  is  no  railway  on  this  continent  which 
offers  to  tourists  such  a  unique  and  imposing  variety  of 
mountain  and  forest  scenery  as  the  Oregon  and  Cali- 
fornia, or  Shasta  Route,  which  connects  San  Francisco 
with  Portland.  For  many  hours  after  leaving  Sacra- 
mento, the  train  follows  the  banks  of  the  Sacramento 
River,  whose  water  in  this  upper  part  of  its  course  is  as 
clear  as  the  Rhine  in  Switzerland.  No  fewer  than  eigh- 
teen times  does  the  train  cross  the  winding  river,  which 
at  every  turn  offers  a  new  picturesque  view.  But  it  is 
not  till  Mt.  Shasta  comes  into  view  that  the  real  grand- 
eur of  this  route  is  made  evident.  Mr.  Bryce,  in  his 
"American  Commonwealth,"  insinuates  that  there  is 
little  fine  scenery  in  this  country;  but  if  there  is  another 
railroad  in  the  world  which  skirts  the  base  of  an  isolated 
snow  mountain  over  fourteen  thousand  feet  in  height, 

149 


150        MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

and  so  vast  in  circumference  that  it  takes  the  train  five 
or  six  hours  to  get  around  it,  I  have  not  seen  it  or  heard 
of  it ;  and  Shasta  is  only  one  of  half-a-dozen  snow-peaks 
which  may  be  admired  on  this  route  and  its  continu- 
ation north  to  Tacoma  and  Seattle.  There  is  something 
absolutely  unique  about  what  may  be  called  the  Oregon 
System  of  mountain  peaks  (since  Oregon  once  embraced 
all  this  region),  beginning  with  Shasta  (14,440  feet),  in 
Northern  California,  and  including  the  Three  Sisters 
(8,500),  Mts.  Jefferson  (9,000)  and  Hood  (11,200) 
in  Oregon,  and  Mts.  St.  Helen's  (9,750),  Adams  (9,570), 
and  Tacoma  (14,444)  in  Washington.  Elsewhere,  as  in 
Switzerland,  or  along  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway, 
snow-peaks  are  always  adjacent  or  jumbled  together  in 
irregular  groups ;  and  this  is  the  case  even  in  the  Sierra 
Nevada  of  Central  California.  But  the  '  Oregon '  earth- 
giants,  from  Shasta  to  Tacoma,  are  all  isolated  peaks, 
separated  by  many  miles  from  other  peaks,  with  only  a 
low  range  of  mountains  to  connect  them;  and  this  gives 
them  a  grandeur  and  individuality  which  is  lacking  in 
peaks  that  simply  form  one  of  an  irregular  group.  As 
Mr.  Joaquin  Miller  poetically  puts  it :  "  Here,  the 
shining  pyramids  of  white,  starting  sudden  and  solitary 
from  the  great  black  sea  of  firs,  standing  as  supporting 
pillars  to  the  dome  of  intense  blue  sky,  startle,  thrill, 
and  delight  you,  though  you  have  stood  unmoved  before 
the  sublimest  scenes  on  earth." 

It  is  owing  to  this  isolation  that  Shasta  is  the  grand- 
est mountain  in  California.  Mt.  Whitney  is  several 
hundred  feet  higher,  but  it  stands  in  a  region  where 
there  are  a  hundred  peaks  each  over  thirteen  thousand 
feet  in  height,  and  therefore  is  not  able  to  assert  itself 
properly.  Moreover,  Whitney  is  several  hundred  miles 


MT.  SHASTA  AND- CEATEK  LAKE.        151 

further  south,  where  the  solar  heat  disposes  of  the  snow- 
fields  every  summer,  and  does  not  compel  them  to  seek 
the  valley  in  the  shape  of  glaciers ;  whereas  Shasta  has 
five  glaciers,  one  of  which  is  more  than  three  miles  long. 
Jefferson,  Hood,  and  Tacoma  also  have  fine  glaciers, 
easily  accessible. 

As  compared  with  the  mountains  of  Switzerland, 
Shasta  has  this  advantage:  that  whereas  the  former 
rarely,  even  in  summer,  have  the  advantage  of  standing 
out  against  a  clear  blue  sky,  which  adds  so  very  much 
to  the  sublimity  of  the  scene,  Shasta  rears  its  snowy 
head  day  after  day  and  month  after  month  into  the 
cloudless  azure.  Late  in  summer,  however,  it  loses 
some  of  its  grandeur  through  the  melting  of  most 
of  its  snow-fields;  and  in  this  respect  Mt.  Hood  is 
superior  to  Shasta,  as  it  keeps  its  snow-mantle  through- 
out the  usual  Oregon  summer.  Besides  the  California 
sun,  the  snows  of  Shasta  have  another  enemy  in  the 
internal  volcanic  heat  which  has  not  yet  subsided. 
Shasta  has  its  big  craters,  and  there  are  a  score  of 
smaller  ones  in  the  lower  neighboring  cones.  A  few 
hundred  feet  below  the  summit  there  is  a  hot  sulphur 
spring,  to  whose  heat  John  Muir  and  Jerome  Fay, 
being  caught  in  a  snow-storm  in  1875,  owed  the  pres- 
ervation of  their  lives. 

One  of  the  best  ways  to  realize  the  great  height  of 
Shasta,  is  by  noting  the  very  long  time  the  sun  lingers 
on  the  mountain  side  after  it  has  set  at  Sisson's,  in 
Strawberry  Valley,  —  fully  half  an  hour.  After  it  has 
gone  down,  on  dark  nights  in  May,  a  solitary  star  will 
arise  immediately  over  the  summit,  looking  at  first  as  if 
some  venturesome  climber  had  started  a  fire,  dwarfed  by 
the  distance.  One  does  not  realize  how  jagged  are  the 


152       MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

ridges  of  Shasta  until  the  evening  sun  casts  their  gray 
silhouettes  on  the  adjacent  white  snow-fields. 

All  this  can  be  seen  from  the  porch  of  Mr.  Sisson's 
hotel  —  the  same  hotel  that  used  to  feed  the  passengers 
and  the  horses  of  the  stages  so  many  years  before 
the  Oregon  and  California  Railroad  was  built;  and 
the  same  Mr.  Sisson  who,  twenty  years  ago,  served  as 
Clarence  King's  guide  up  the  mountain.  Mr.  Sisson 
now  has  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  quite  a  respectable 
village  which  has  grown  up  in  the  picturesque  spot 
selected  by  him  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago ;  but  he  no 
longer  has  the  strength  to  act  as  guide ;  nor  does  he 
need  to,  as  he  is  well-to-do.  Accordingly,  I  had  to 
content  myself  with  one  of  the  Indians  in  his  employ, 
as  guide  up  the  mountain  side.  May  is  too  early  to 
make  the  complete  ascent,  but  we  thought  we  could 
get  above  the  timber  line  at  any  rate.  But  even  this 
proved  impossible,  owing  to  the  deep  masses  of  snow 
which  carpeted  the  sombre  forest  at  a  height  of  eight 
thousand  feet.  Yet  the  trip  proved  worth  taking 
without  the  final  climb.  The  path  led  through  the 
densest  imaginable  forest,  and  was  impeded  every  five 
minutes  by  a  fallen  tree.  In  looking  at  the  millions  of 
dead  trees  which  rot  on  the  ground  in  these  Cali- 
fornia and  Oregon  forests,  one  cannot  suppress  the 
thought,  "  What  a  blessing  this  wood  would  be  to  the 
starving,  freezing  thousands  in  our  large  cities,  during 
the  winter  months  I " 

It  is  this  superabundance  and  natural  waste  of  wood 
everywhere  that  breeds  indifference  in  the  people  of 
this  coast  and  the  natives  to  the  devastating  forest  fires 
which  occur  every  summer.  My  Indian  guide  amused 
himself  by  setting  trees  on  fire  in  several  places,  and  to 


MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE.        153 

the  question  why  he  did  this,  I  could  get  no  satisfactory 
answer.  He  also  very  kindly  tried  to  amuse  me  by  roll- 
ing huge  rocks  down  a  tremendous  precipice.  I  should 
have  been  less  surprised  than  hurt  had  he  thrown  me 
down  too,  in  retaliation  for  the  injury  inflicted  on 
him  and  his  race  by  the  intruding  white  man,  who  has 
reduced  the  former  lords  of  this  region,  where  they 
could  hunt  and  fish  to  their  heart's  content,  to  the  con- 
dition of  day-laborers  earning  their  bread  by  the  sweat 
of  their  brow.  How  galling  it  must  be  to  the  noble 
savage  to  have  to  dig  stumps  and  level  roads  while  his 
squaws  look  on,  because,  forsooth,  the  perverse  white 
man  will  not  permit  the  squaws  to  do  the  grubbing,  and 
him  to  look  on ! 

Mr.  Sisson  took  me  to  a  small  Indian  camp  near  his 
house,  where  he  wanted  to  engage  a  man  for  a  job.  The 
young  buck  was  gorgeously  arrayed  in  a  pair  of  old 
trousers  and  a  new  linen  shirt,  evidently  just  arrived 
from  San  Francisco,  with  its  bosom  starched  stiffly 
enough  for  a  city  dude.  He  was  obviously  conscious 
of  this  ornament,  and,  probably  in  consequence  of  it, 
wanted  more  money  for  the  job  than  Mr.  Sisson  had 
previously  paid  him.  Noblesse  oblige!  The  squaws, 
young  and  old,  and  the  children,  were  all  very  fat, 
dirty,  and  stupid-looking,  and  were  crowding  around  a 
fire,  eating  fried  meat  and  flat,  round  cakes  of  dough 
baked  in  a  pan,  looking  as  if  it  would  give  chronic 
dyspepsia  to  an  ostrich  or  a  goat.  I  was  also  shown  an 
Indian  hut  where  there  had  been  a  dance  on  the  pre- 
ceding Fourth  of  July,  white  visitors  being  charged 
twenty-five  cents  admission. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  places  Mr.  Sisson  has  to 
show  his  guests  is  the  source  of  the  Sacramento  River. 


154  MT.   SHASTA  AKD   CRATER   LAKE. 

About  a  mile  from  his  house,  at  a  place  to  which  steps 
lead  down  from  the  railway  track,  the  water  rushes  out 
from  several  springs  in  a  great  volume,  forming  imme- 
diately a  trout-brook  of  respectable  size,  which  hurries 
away  in  the  new  daylight,  as  if  glad  to  have  escaped  its 
subterranean  source.  These  springs  issue  from  under 
Mt.  Shasta,  and  doubtless  owe  their  being  to  the  melting 
of  snow  and  glacier  ice  by  the  internal  volcanic  heat  — 
a  worthy  origin  of  so  romantic  a  river  as  the  Sacra- 
mento. Near  these  springs  is  a  valuable  iron-water 
spring,  which  also  belongs  to  Mr.  Sisson,  and  is  one  of  his 
most  important  possessions,  now  that  the  town  founded 
by  him  is  getting  to  be  a  regular  resort  for  San  Francis- 
cans, Portlanders,  and  Eastern  tourists,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  view  of  Shasta,  but  because  of  the  beau- 
tiful forest  scenery,  and  the  excellent  trout-fishing  in 
the  neighboring  McCloud  River.  Six  large  rivers  and 
many  smaller  ones  are  born  of  Shasta  and  neighboring 
peaks,  and  it  is  these  icy  streams  that  the  trout  and  the 
salmon  delight  in.  The  Sacramento  itself,  however, 
does  not  afford  any  sport  in  this  vicinity. 

After  leaving  Sisson's,  Shasta  still  remains  in  sight 
for  some  time;  for  it  takes  some  time  even  for  a  rail- 
way to  get  away  from  a  mountain,  of  which  it  has 
been  remarked  that  "if  it  could  be  sawed  off  at  the 
four-thousand-foot  level,  or  five  hundred  feet  above  the 
valley,  the  oval  plain  thus  made  would  be  eighty  miles 
in  circumference."  Some  of  the  views  of  Shasta  after 
leaving  Sisson's  are  even  grander  than  at  the  station, 
and  in  certain  atmospheric  conditions  the  snow-cone 
may  be  seen  floating,  as  it  were,  on  a  mystic  haze 
resembling  water.  The  aspect  of  the  mountain  gradu- 
ally changes,  and  what  had  seemed  smooth,  gradual 


MT.   SHASTA   AND   CRATER    LAKE.  155 

slopes  are  now  seen  to  be  rugged  precipices  rising  one 
above  the  other. 

We  now  approach  that  mammoth  fragrant  forest 
between  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  the  Cascade  Mountains 
which  is  known  as  Oregon,  and  it  becomes  obvious 
at  once  that  the  chief  difference  between  Oregon  and 
California  is  comprised  in  the  word  RAIN.  Shortly 
after  crossing  the  Oregon  line  evidence  begins  to  multi- 
ply that  we  have  entered  the  rain  belt.  There  are  more 
deciduous  trees,  more  ferns  and  mosses,  more  under- 
brush in  the  pine  forests,  and,  most  significant  of  all, 
more  rivers.  California  has  in  its  whole  coast  line  of 
seven  hundred  miles  only  one  navigable  river,  while 
Oregon,  with  a  coast  line  of  only  three  hundred  and 
fifty  miles,  has  four  fine  navigable  rivers,  —  the  Rogue, 
the  Umqua,  the  Willamette,  and  the  Columbia, — 
with  many  smaller  ones.  All  of  these  run  from  east  to 
west,  except  the  Willamette,  which  divides  the  State 
by  flowing  northward  into  the  Columbia  near  Portland, 
thus  creating  the  fertile  Willamette  Valley,  to  which 
Portland  chiefly  owes  its  wealth. 

The  Willamette  has  some  tributaries  which  alone 
would  make  the  fortune  of  several  counties  in  Southern 
California,  where  nothing  can  be  done  without  irriga- 
tion ;  whereas  in  Oregon  no  one  but  vegetable  gardeners 
ever  thinks  of  such  a  thing.  One  of  these  tributaries  is 
the  Pudding  River,  along  the  banks  of  which  many 
charming  scenes  may  be  enjoyed,  and  which  is  full  of 
fish,  which,  however,  have  the  peculiarity  that  they 
never  take  a  bait.  In  the  Santiam  and  some  of  the 
other  rivers  the  fishing  is  excellent,  and  the  creeks  are 
full  of  trout  and  of  crawfish,  which  are  delicious,  and  of 
which  I  have  caught  as  many  as  a  hundred  in  an  hour, 


156        MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

with  three  strings  and  three  pieces  of  beef.  A  favorite 
form  of  picnicking  in  Oregon  is  to  take  a  sauce-pan  and 
salt,  catch  a  few  hundred  of  these  tender  and  juicy 
crawfish,  boil  them,  and  enjoy  a  feast  fit  for  prelates. 

The  rain,  to  which  Oregon  owes  its  numerous  rivers 
and  creeks,  is  not  as  abundant  in  the  southern  as  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  State.  There  is  a  gradual  transition 
from  thirty-two  inches  at  Jacksonville  to  thirty-eight  at 
Salem,  fifty-three  at  Portland,  and  seventy-two  at  Astoria. 
The  Rogue  River  Valley  climate  has  been  described  as 
"  a  compromise  between  the  droughts  of  California  and 
the  great  rain  of  the  Willamette  Valley."  Grapes 
are  raised  here  equal  to  the  best  in  California,  and  the 
peaches  have  been  known  to  fetch  higher  prices  in  the  San 
Francisco  market  than  the  California  varieties.  Melons 
also  are  raised  here  in  great  abundance  for  the  Portland 
market,  Northern  Oregon  (where  the  thermometer  some- 
times does  not  register  above  85°  during  a  whole  sum- 
mer) being  too  cold  for  their  successful  cultivation. 
Southern  Oregon  is  at  present  but  thinly  settled ;  but  if 
its  climatic,  scenic,  and  agricultural  advantages  were 
generally  known  to  immigrants,  it  would  fill  up  rapidly. 

Two  large  lakes,  the  Upper  and  Lower  Klamath,  will 
in  course  of  time  become  popular  resorts  of  Oregonians, 
and  some  miles  north  of  the  Upper  Klamath  is  Crater 
Lake,  which,  although  much  smaller,  is  by  the  Ore- 
gonians considered  the  greatest  curiosity  on  the  Pacific 
Coast,  and  which  used  to  be,  and  still  is,  regarded  as 
holy  ground  by  the  Indians  of  the  neighborhood.  Local 
authorities  tells  us  that  "  in  the  past  none  but  medicine 
men  visited  it ;  and  when  one  of  the  tribe  felt  called  to 
become  a  teacher,  he  spent  several  weeks  at  the  lake,  in 
prayer  to  the  Shahulah  Tyee." 


MT.    SHASTA   AND   CRATER   LAKE.  157 

Crater  Lake  lies  in  the  heart  of  the  Cascade  Moun- 
tains, and  at  so  great  an  elevation  —  6,257  feet  —  as  to 
be  rendered  inaccessible,  except  in  summer,  by  the  depth 
of  the  snow  in  the  surrounding  forests.  It  is  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles  from  Ashland,  and  may  be 
reached  from  that  city,  or  from  Medford,  by  stage.  The 
road  follows  the  banks  of  the  tumultuous  Klamath 
River,  and  passes  through  the  Klamath  Indian  Reser- 
vation, near  Fort  Klamath,  which  was  abandoned  in 
1889,  as  being  no  longer  necessary.  A  narrow  defile 
known  as  Mystic  Cafion  is  also  of  interest,  and  it  is 
well  to  bear  in  mind  that  in  the  older  guide-books 
Crater  Lake  is  put  down  as  Mystic  Lake.  Mystic  it 
certainly  is,  but  its  present  name  is  preferable  because 
more  definite  ;  for  Crater  Lake  is  really  a  body  of  water 
which,  like  Lake  Tahoe,  fills  up  a  volcanic  orifice.  And 
a  most  gigantic  crater  it  was,  for  the  circumference  of 
the  lake  is  more  than  twenty  miles.  There  is  only  one 
place  where  one  can  climb  down  to  the  water ;  the  rest 
of  the  shore  consists  of  precipitous  walls  from  fifteen 
hundred  feet  to  three  thousand  feet  in  height,  which  are 
less  slanting  than  they  appear  in  photographs.  These 
high  walls,  which  are  mirrored  in  the  water  with  their 
fringe  of  trees,  effectually  shut  out  the  mountain 
breezes,  so  that  the  water  is  placid,  and  rarely  ruffled. 
There  is  something  mysterious  about  this  water ;  for  it 
has  no  visible  or  discoverable  inlet  or  outlet,  and  yet  it 
is  always  clear  and  sweet.  Fish,  however,  do  not 
inhabit  it,  probably  because  none  ever  succeeded  in  get- 
ting there ;  and  even  water-fowl,  it  is  said,  avoid  this 
solitary,  silent  mountain  lake.  In  the  middle  of  the 
lake  stands  an  island,  about  three  miles  long,  of  vol- 
canic origin,  rising  to  a  point  eight  hundred  and  forty- 


158  MT.   SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE. 

five  feet  high,  and  ending  in  a  crater  four  hundred  and 
seventy-five  feet  in  diameter.  There  are  caves  along 
the  shores  which  may  have  some  connection  with  the 
water-supply,  as  a  current  is  observable  near  them.  The 
depth  of  the  lake  has  never  been  ascertained,  but  it  has 
been  sounded  for  two  thousand  feet  without  reaching 
bottom. 

A  few  years  ago  an  effort  was  made  to  have  the 
Crater  Lake  region  reserved  as  the  Oregon  National 
Park,  and  in  1888  a  bill  to  this  effect  passed  the  United 
States  Senate.  As  there  is  much  valuable  timber  on 
the  neighboring  mountain  ranges,  and  much  fine  grazing 
land,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  a  branch  road  will 
ere  long  connect  Crater  Lake  with  the  Oregon  and 
California  Railroad ;  and  when  that  has  been  built,  every 
visitor  to  the  Pacific  Coast  will  feel  that  he  can  no  more 
afford  to  miss  this  lake  than  the  other  two  scenic  won- 
ders of  Oregon  —  the  Columbia  River  and  Mt.  Hood. 

Going  southward  towards  Portland,  the  wonderful 
fertility  of  the  Willamette  Valley  is  what  chiefly  arrests 
the  attention  of  tourists.  Wood  being  cheaper  than  coal 
in  this  region,  the  train  frequently  stops  to  get  a  fresh 
load  of  fuel  from  the  huge  piles  of  timber  which  at 
intervals  extend  along  the  road,  sometimes  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  without  a  break.  During  these  stops,  some 
young  man  may  be  seen  running  to  a  neighboring  wheat 
or  oat  field  to  compare  height  with  the  stalks,  some- 
times to  his  disadvantage.  But  these  rich  agricultural 
lands  were  all  taken  up  long  ago,  and  the  emigrant  with 
a  slender  purse  and  a  desire  for  government  land  has 
to  seek  a  region  more  remote  from  the  railway.  The 
towns  along  this  route,  including  Roseburg,  Eugene, 
Albany,  Salem,  and  Oregon  City,  have  not  grown  so  fast 


MT.'  SHASTA  AND   CRATER   LAKE.  159 

during  the  last  ten  years  as  Portland,  or  as  the  towns  of 
Washington  and  California;  but  the  inhabitants  confi- 
dently believe  that  their  day  will  come  when  the  more 
sensational  California  and  Washington  towns  have 
passed  through  their  boom  period,  and  they  modestly 
claim  that  they  prefer  steady  and  slow  growth  to  a 
boom  which  too  often  becomes  a  retrograde  boomerang. 
At  Oregon  City,  tourists  should  be  on  the  lookout  for 
the  falls  of  the  Willamette,  below  which  the  Indians 
formerly  used  to  spear  salmon,  but  which  now  serve  the 
more  prosaic  purpose  of  furnishing  water-power  to  the 
woollen  mills  on  the  spot,  and  electric  power  to  Port- 
land "twelve  miles  away. 

The  Willamette  Valley,  through  which  our  train  has 
passed  on  the  way  from  Roseburg  to  Portland,  is  the 
garden  of  Oregon.  Twenty  years  ago  wheat  and  apples 
were  almost  exclusively  cultivated  in  this  region.  Then 
the  discovery  was  made  that  the  soil  and  climate  are 
remarkably  well  adapted  to  hop  culture,  and  most  of 
the  farmers  at  once  gave  up  their  grain  fields  and 
orchards  and  raised  hops.  Farmers  have  their  fashions 
as  well  as  city  folks,  and  they  are  just  as  apt  to  go  to 
extremes.  The  hop-raising  business  was  overdone ; 
prices  fell;  and  now  many  of  these  farmers  are  re- 
turning to  their  grain  and  fruit,  in  which  no  other 
State  surpasses  Oregon,  in  quality  as  well  as  in  quantity. 

Concerning  Oregon  fruit  I  can  speak  from  personal 
experience,  as  I  was  brought  up  near  an  orchard  num- 
bering two  thousand  apple,  pear,  and  plum  trees.  For 
peaches  and  grapes  the  climate  of  Northern  Oregon  is 
hardly  warm  enough,  and  the  apples  and  pears,  too,  are 
perhaps  a  little  smaller  than  they  are  in  California,  but 
in  flavor  they  are  vastly  superior.  Indeed,  neither  in 


160  MT.    SHASTA  AND  CRATER   LAKE. 

the  East  nor  in  any  part  of  Europe  have  I  ever  tasted 
apples  to  compare  with  those  of  Oregon.  They  have  a 
richness  and  delicacy  of  flavor  which  must  persuade 
any  one  that,  if  apples  were  less  abundant,  they  would 
be  considered  superior  in  taste  and  fragrance  to  those 
tropical  and  semi-tropical  fruits  which  are  more  highly 
valued  because  of  their  scarcity  in  our  latitude.  In 
most  parts  of  the  East  an  apple  is  an  apple,  and  few 
people  know  or  care  about  the  names  of  the  different 
kinds ;  but  an  Oregonian  would  no  more  eat  certain 
kinds  of  apples  than  he  would  a  raw  pumpkin.  An 
epicure  is  no  more  particular  in  regard  to  his  brands  of 
wine  than  an  Oregonian  is  in  the  choice  of  his  favorite 
variety  of  apples ;  and  there  are  half-a-dozen  kinds 
which  I  have  never  seen  at  the  East,  and  the  systematic 
introduction  of  which  in  the  New  York  market  would 
make  any  dealer's  fortune. 

For  some  reason  or  other  the  Oregonians  seem  less 
enterprising  than  their  California  neighbors,  and  instead 
of  sending  their  fruit  East,  they  often  allow  it  to  rot  on 
the  trees  —  including  superb  plums,  and  Bartlett  pears 
that  would  fetch  eight  to  ten  cents  apiece  in  New  York. 
Eastern  capital  is  wanted  to  start  transportation  enter- 
prises ;  and  a  still  more  important  desideratum  in  Ore- 
gon is  a  larger  population.  The  growth  of  the  State  has 
been  remarkably  slow,  considering  its  agricultural  ad- 
vantages and  its  fine  climate.  In  the  census  of  1880, 
the  population  numbered  only  174,767.  But  there  were 
already  "16,217  farms,  and  their  products  are  tabled  at 
a  cash  value  of  $13,234,548,"  —  a  curious  commentary 
on  the  exclamation  of  a  member  of  Congress  forty-five 
years  ago,  that  he  would  not  "  give  a  pinch  of  snuff  for 
the  whole  Territory." 


MT.  SHASTA  AND  CRATER  LAKE.        161 

Eastern  notions  regarding  the  climate  of  Western 
Oregon  are  almost  as  widely  astray  as  they  are  re- 
garding Alaska.  Barrows  points  out  that,  although 
the  mouth  of  the  Willamette  is  two  hundred  miles 
further  north  than  Boston,  no  ice  has  been  formed  on 
it  thicker  than  window-glass  since  1862;  and  that  in 
some  of  the  counties  snow  has  not  covered  the  ground 
for  three  consecutive  days  for  a  score  of  years.  The 
rainy  season,  which  takes  the  place  of  the  Eastern 
winter,  is  trying  to  the  patience  of  some ;  yet  this  rain 
is  very  different  from  our  muggy,  foggy,  sultry  winter 
rains  in  New  York.  It  is  known  as  a  "  dry  "  rain,  be- 
cause however  it  may  drizzle,  it  does  not  seem  to 
saturate  the  air  and  depress  the  spirits  by  impeding 
the  natural  evaporation  and  healthy  action  of  the  skin. 
Doubtless  this  peculiarity  of  climate  is  largely  re- 
sponsible for  the  remarkably  beautiful  complexions  of 
Oregon  and  Washington  women,  though  something 
may  be  due  to  the  fact  that,  as  children,  they  live 
almost  entirely  on  fruit.  The  heat  of  Oregon  summer 
days  is  not  often  oppressive,  being  generally  mitigated 
by  a  gentle  breeze,  and  the  nights  are  always  cool 
enough  for  refreshing  sleep. 


XI. 

PORTLAND  AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

A  PICTURESQUE   SITUATION FIVE  SNOW-PEAKS   IN  SIGHT 

PORTLAND  VERSUS  LOS    ANGELES  —  CLEARINGS CHINESE 

ANECDOTES — PROPITIATING    THE     GODS APPRECIATION 

OF  FEMALE    BEAUTY SUMMER   RESORTS YAQUINA  BAY 

AND  LONG   BEACH BATHING  IN    THE   NORTH   PACIFIC 

CATCHING  CRABS  AT  LOW  TIDE A  SAD  ACCIDENT CLAT- 

SOP   BEACH   AND    TILLAMOOK    HEAD AN  EXPOSED  LIGHT- 
HOUSE  IN  THE  VIRGIN  FOREST OREGON  MOSSES,  FERNS, 

AND  TREES —  FLOWERS  AND  BERRIES. 

IF  the  greatest  commercial  advantage  which  a  city 
can  enjoy  is  to  be  situated  on  a  large  river,  it  is  equally 
true  that  of  all  possible  aesthetic  advantages  no  other  is 
equal  to  that  of  having  a  scenic  background  of  snow 
mountains.  It  is  to  this  that  so  many  cities  of  France, 
Spain,  Switzerland,  and  Italy  owe  their  principal  charm. 
To  find  anything  similar  in  the  United  States  we  have 
to  go  far  West,  and  especially  Northwest.  Portland, 
Tacoma,  and  Seattle  are  the  three  most  picturesquely 
situated  cities  in  the  United  States,  and  of  these  three 
I  would  assign  the  palm  to  Portland,  from  a  purely 
scenic  point  of  view.  For  although  Mt.  Hood  does 
not  seem  quite  so  near  and  imposing  at  Portland  as 
Mt.  Tacoma  does  as  seen  from  Seattle  or  Tacoma, 
it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Portlanders  have 

162 


PORTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  163 

full-size  views  from  their  streets,  not  only  of  Hood 
but  also  of  St.  Helens,  while  the  summits  of  Tacoma, 
Adams,  and  Jefferson  are  seen  from  the  hills  which 
encircle  the  city.  And  while  Portland  has  no  Puget 
Sound,  it  is  only  twelve  miles  from  the  Columbia  River, 
which  is  scenically  superior  even  to  the  "American 
Mediterranean,"  as  Puget  Sound  has  been  aptly  called. 

Architectural  monuments  of  importance  there  are 
none  as  yet  in  Portland,  but  the  trees  and  gardens 
which  frame  in  all  the  houses  are  equally  attractive  in 
their  way,  and,  from  a  sanitary  point  of  view,  more 
desirable.  Garden  City  or  Forest  City  would  seem  an 
appropriate  name  for  Portland,  as  seen  from  the  Port- 
land Heights,  which  every  tourist  should  visit ;  and  the 
Cascade  Range  to  the  east,  with  the  Willamette  River 
separating  the  city  from  East  Portland  and  Albina, 
gives  the  ensemble  a  slight  resemblance  to  Stuttgart,  if 
not  to  Florence,  though  neither  of  those  cities  can  boast 
of  a  line  of  five  volcanic  snow-peaks  like  Portland. 

Of  Mt.  Hood  in  particular  the  Portlanders  have  a  mag- 
nificent view  from  their  house-tops  or  from  the  heights 
west  of  the  city.  Though  it  is  about  fifty  miles  away, 
there  is  not  a  hill  between  to  impede  the  view ;  and,  as 
the  particular  Cascade  ridge  with  which  Mt.  Hood  con- 
nects is  of  insignificant  height,  the  peak  stands  revealed 
from  head  to  foot  in  solitary  grandeur,  with  snow  reach- 
ing down  two-thirds  of  the  way  even  in  August.  As 
previously  stated,  it  is  a  peculiarity  of  all  the  Oregon 
and  Washington  peaks  that  they  thus  rise  abruptly  from 
the  ground,  without  any  clustering  neighbors  to  lean 
upon ;  and  this  isolation,  combined  with  the  lowness 
of  the  snow-line,  adds  much  to  their  grandeur  and  ap- 
parent height.  With  such  fine  scenery  constantly  in 


164  PORTLAND    AND   ITS    SEA-BEACHES. 

view,  and  with  trees  and  flowers  around  every  house, 
it  is  perhaps  not  surprising  that  the  wealthy  Portlanders 
have  hitherto  shown  a  remarkable  indifference  to  the 
condition  of  their  parks  and  streets.  The  large  piles  of 
wood  in  front  of  every  other  house  appear  more  useful 
than  ornamental,  and  give  parts  of  the  city  a  semi-rural 
aspect.  They  make  excellent  and  cheap  fuel,  however, 
and  the  large  quantities  of  pitch  they  contain  give 
them  a  delightful  fragrance.  Another  peculiarity  of 
Portland  streets  is  that  the  blocks  are  uncommonly 
small.  Fewer  streets  and  wider  ones  would  have  been 
much  more  acceptable.  The  waste  of  space  involved 
in  the  present  arrangement  is  beginning  to  be  felt  now 
that  real  estate  is  rapidly  rising  in  value. 

Portland  owes  its  growth  and  its  commercial  impor- 
tance to  the  fact  that  the  Willamette  River  is  navi- 
gable up  to  its  wharves  by  the  largest  ocean  steamers  ; 
so  that  the  rich  farm  products  of  the  Willamette  Val- 
ley can  be  at  once  shipped  to  all  parts  of  the  world 
without  a  long  and  expensive  railway  transportation. 

In  a  book  dated  1855  —  Thornton's  "  Oregon  and 
California"  —  we  read  that  "ships  drawing  twelve  or 
fourteen  feet  of  water  ascend  the  Willamette  to  the 
pleasant  and  flourishing  village  of  Portland,  twelve 
miles  below  Oregon  City."  This  "  pleasant  and  flour- 
ishing village  "  is  now  a  city  of  at  least  sixty  thousand, 
which  hotly  disputes  with  Los  Angeles  the  honor  of 
being  the  second  largest  city  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  The 
Los  Angeles  papers  claim  seventy  thousand  for  their 
city  and  speak  encouragingly  of  Portland  as  a  promis- 
ing city  of  forty  thousand ;  while  the  Portland  papers 
reverse  these  figures,  claiming  seventy  thousand  for 
their  city  and  generously  conceding  to  Los  Angeles 


PORTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  165 

forty  thousand.  One  thing  is  certain :  that  Portland 
is  growing  very  rapidly,  as  is  proved  by  official  statistics, 
showing  that  the  grand  total  of  receipts  and  payments 
of  money  order  and  postal  funds  increased  more  than  a 
million  dollars  from  June  30,  1888,  to  June  30,  1889. 
Portland,  however,  has  never  had  a  real  "  boom  "  like 
her  southern  rival,  or  like  Tacoma  and  Seattle.  Oregon, 
indeed,  has  been  somewhat  unjustly  neglected,  being 
thrown  into  the  shade  by  her  more  brilliant  neighbors, 
California  and  Washington.  Her  growth  has  been 
gradual,  and  not  by  spurts,  but  it  has  been  as  steady  as 
it  has  been  quiet,  and  the  total  result  is  surprising. 
Salem,  the  State  capital,  has  not,  indeed,  greatly  out- 
grown the  condition  in  which  it  was  found  a  number  of 
years  ago  by  Mr.  Joaquin  Miller,  who  referred  to  it  as 
"rather  thickly  settled  for  the  country,  yet  far  too 
thinly  settled  for  a  city " ;  but  Portland  has  always 
gone  on  ahead,  thanks  to  the  fact  that  it  has  been,  and 
still  is,  the  headquarters  for  wholesale  supplies  not  only 
in  Oregon,  but  in  Washington  and  Idaho.  This,  com- 
bined with  the  fact  that  it  is  the  outlet  for  one  of 
the  richest  grain  and  fruit  States  in  the  Union,  ac- 
counts for  the  metropolitan  aspect  of  Portland.  Front 
Street,  where  the  large  wholesale  houses  are,  might  be 
easily  taken  for  a  street  in  New  York  or  Chicago. 
Farther  away  from  the  river,  elegant  rows  of  residences 
occupy  the  ground  where  a  few  years  ago  ferns  and 
mosses  grew,  and  the  festive  stump  asserted  its  omni- 
presence. A  large  and  magnificent  hotel  has  just  been 
completed,  the  Portland,  one  of  the  finest  and  most 
sensibly  constructed  in  the  country,  every  room  being 
practically  a  front  room,  with  plenty  of  light  and  air. 
This  hotel  was  much  needed.  I  have  known  tourists 


166  POKTLAND   AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

to  leave  Portland  disgusted  because  they  could  not  get 
comfortable  quarters  in  the  overcrowded  small  hotels. 
Cable  and  electric  roads  have  also  been  introduced 
recently,  and  besides  all  these  things,  there  is  evidence 
of  Portland's  prosperity  in  the  appearance  of  the  daily 
Oregonian,  which  is  at  present  compelled  to  add  four 
pages  almost  every  issue  to  its  usual  eight  pages,  just 
as  were  the  Los  Angeles  papers  during  the  "  boom  "  in 
Southern  California.  The  Oregonian  is  one  of  the  best 
edited  papers  in  the  United  States,  liberal  in  its  views, 
and  generally  on  the  right  side  of  important  questions. 
It  has  obtained  such  a  firm  hold  in  Oregon  soil  that 
rival  papers  find  it  almost  impossible  to  make  headway 
against  it ;  and  Portland  is  perhaps  the  only  city  of  its 
size  in  this  country  which  has  only  one  first-class  daily 
paper. 

Some  Portlanders  are  distressed  at  the  fact  that  Sec- 
ond Street,  one  of  the  three  principal  business  streets 
of  the  city,  has  fallen  almost  entirely  into  the  hands  of 
the  Chinese ;  but  in  her  general  treatment  of  Chinamen, 
Portland  differs  widely  from  her  rival  cities  in  Wash- 
ington. From  Tacoma  the  Mongolians  were  driven 
formally,  a  few  years  ago,  by  a  mob,  headed  by  the 
mayor  and  a  brass  band.  Seattle  tried  the  same  game, 
but  there  the  mob  was  foiled  by  the  interference  of  the 
sheriff.  Portland,  on  the  other  hand,  deals  gently  with 
its  two  thousand  Chinamen,  because  they  are  found  use- 
ful, and  sometimes  indispensable.  A  Portlander  has 
explained  this  matter  as  follows :  "  In  a  city  where 
white  help  cannot  be  got  at  the  rate  of  thirty  dollars  a 
month  for  plain  cooks  and  twenty  dollars  for  chamber- 
maids, Chinamen  at  those  prices,  either  in  the  kitchen 
or  overhead,  are  a  blessing.  Indeed,  the  amicable  rela- 


PORTLAND  AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  167 

tions  between  the  Chinese  and  the  whites  here  is  due 
largely  to  a  tacit  agreement  on  a  division  of  labor.  All 
over  the  city  you  see  that  the  men  employed  on  street- 
mending  and  other  public  works  are  white.  Wherever 
you  see  a  pile  of  cordwood  and  a  man  sawing,  splitting, 
and  carrying  it  in,  you  will  find  him  a  Chinaman. 
When  a  well-to-do  Chinaman  wants  a  drive  in  a  hack, 
a  white  man  sits  before  him  on  the  box.  The  Chinese 
have  not  intruded  into  any  of  the  skilled  trades  to  the 
exclusion  of  the  whites.  Their  barbers  shave  only  their 
own  countrymen.  Their  cobblers  confine  their  mending 
to  Chinese  shoes.  Their  compositors  set  only  Chinese 
type.  Their  carpenters  are  employed  on  Chinese  build- 
ings and  cabinet  work  exclusively.  You  will  often  see 
a  drayman  delivering  freight  with  a  Chinese  helper,  or 
a  white  gardener  directing  his  Chinese  assistant  in  the 
use  of  the  hoe  and  the  rake.  The  absurd  notion,  so 
prevalent  in  some  parts  of  the  East,  that  the  Chinaman 
works  for  almost  nothing,  is  quickly  dispelled  when  you 
come  to  strike  a  bargain  with  one.  If  he  is  to  dig  in 
your  garden  as  a  common  laborer,  he  stands  for  his 
dollar  a  day  as  firmly  as  the  white  man.  He  will  saw 
your  wood  gladly,  but  he  must  have  a  dollar  a  cord  for 
it,  or  a  dollar  and  seventy-five  cents  if  he  also  splits  it, 
carries  it  in,  and  piles  it  up  in  your  cellar." 

In  the  country,  the  Chinamen  are  even  more  indis- 
pensable than  in  the  city;  and  the  demand  for  them 
during  harvesting  and  hop-picking  time  is  always 
greater  than  the  supply.  They  are  hired  through  the 
agency  of  Chinese  bosses,  who  send  them  wherever  they 
are  wanted,  with  cooks  and  a  general  outfit,  and  pay 
them  a  small  sum  a  day,  keeping  the  lion's  share  for 
themselves.  At  other  times  of  the  year  the  Chinese 


168  POKTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

are  employed  in  making  "  clearings  "  for  agricultural 
purposes.  Oregon  has  about  fifteen  million  acres  of 
timber  land,  with  a  soil  that  is  excellent  for  grain  or 
fruit,  provided  the  timber  can  be  removed.  To  do  this 
with  white  labor  is  so  expensive  as  to  take  away  the 
possible  margin  of  profit.  But  the  Chinaman  does  it 
for  a  smaller  sum,  and  thus,  instead  of  being  the  farm- 
laborer's  enemy,  he  enables  him  to  earn  a  living  on  the 
ground  cleared  by  the  heathen.  The  cost  of  clearing 
an  acre  varies  from  twenty-five  to  one  hundred  dollars. 

Market-gardening  in  Oregon,  as  in  California,  is 
almost  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  Chinese,  and  where- 
ever  in  the  neighborhood  of  Portland  you  see  a  brook 
large  enough  to  irrigate  a  garden,  you  will  usually  find 
a  Chinaman  in  possession  of  the  ground.  Even  where 
the  gardens  or  orchards  belong  to  Americans,  Chinamen 
are  hired  to  do  most  of  the  work.  And  they  do  it  well, 
with  rare  exceptions.  Usually  they  have  a  separate 
hut,  where  they  do  their  own  cooking;  or  else  they 
occupy  a  portion  of  the  barn,  in  which  case,  if  the 
chickens  lay  their  eggs  therein,  it  is  sometimes  found 
that  the  number  of  cackling  chickens  exceeds  the  num- 
ber of  eggs  found  in  the  trough  in  the  evening. 

To  judge  by  the  articles  found  in  their  provision 
stores,  the  wealthier  among  the  Chinese  appear  to  be  as 
great  epicures  as  their  countrymen  at  home;  while  of 
the  poorer  ones,  if  you  ask  one  what  he  had  for  dinner, 
he  will  invariably  reply,  "I  eatee  licee  "  (rice).  Yet 
they  are  always  glad  to  get  what  is  left  over  at  the  table, 
and  this  makes  it  the  more  remarkable  that  they  are  so 
contented  with  their  insipid  boiled  rice,  without  con- 
diment of  any  sort. 

Heathen  John  is,  of  course,  quite  as  willing  to  work 


PORTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  169 

on  Sunday  as  on  any  other  day ;  but  once  in  a  while  a 
day  comes  along  which  is  marked  sacred  in  his  calendar, 
and  then  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  him  to  do  anything. 
I  once  witnessed  a  curious  scene  on  a  farm  near  East 
Portland.  Strawberries  being  over-ripe,  the  four  Chinese 
laborers  had  been  persuaded  to  pick  all  day,  though  they 
had  expressed  a  great  desire  to  have  a  holiday.  In  the 
evening  they  had  a  grand  performance  in  front  of  their 
barn.  A  whole  roast  chicken  was  brought  out  in  a 
plate  and  placed  on  the  grass,  surrounded  by  half-a- 
dozen  bowls  of  rice-wine,  and  a  number  of  burning  can- 
dles, though  it  was  still  daylight.  The  oldest  of  the 
men  went  through  a  series  of  bows  and  genuflections, 
and  then  poured  out  libations  of  the  wine,  after  offering 
some  to  the  spectators,  who  politely  declined  it.  Then 
a  few  dozen  perforated  papers  with  Chinese  characters 
on  them  were  thrown  into  the  flame,  one  after  another, 
the  chicken  was  carried  back  into  the  barn,  and  the 
ceremony  was  over.  One  of  the  younger  Chinamen 
explained  to  us  that  what  we  had  witnessed  had  been 
done  to  conciliate  the  gods.  "  We  workee  to-day,  long 
(wrong).  'Ligious  holiday.  Now  allee  lightee"  (right). 
He  added  that  he  and  the  other  two  young  men  would 
not  have  done  it,  but  that  the  old  man  was  very  strict  in 
his  religious  observances  and  had  induced  them  to  join 
him. 

Afterwards  we  asked  this  same  young  man  to  sing 
for  us,  which  he  did  after  much  coaxing,  and  a  solemn 
and  repeated  promise  that  we  would  not  laugh.  He 
sang  three  verses  in  a  shrill  falsetto  voice,  each  time  a 
few  notes  higher,  the  effect  being  similar  to  that  of  the 
Edison  phonographic  speaking-dolls.  He  accompanied 
his  song  with  dance  and  pantomime,  but  when  one  of 


170  PORTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

his  companions  tried  to  accompany  him  on  a  peculiar 
instrument  which  sounded  like  a  cross  between  a  violin 
and  oboe,  he  did  not  encourage  him,  and  explained  to 
us  "  he  no  play." 

John  sometimes  manages  to  pick  up  a  fair  knowledge 
of  English,  but  one  word  he  cannot  get  into  his  brain, 
and  that  is  the  word  "get."  Tell  him  to  "go  and  get 
the  milk"  and  he  will  have  no  idea  what  you  want. 
"  Catchee  "  is  the  word  for  him  ;  and  if  you  say  "  John, 
go  catchee  him  milk,"  he  will  go  at  once  and  get  it. 
His  logic  also  is  sometimes  peculiar ;  and  if  you  make  a 
bargain  with  him  at  so  much  a  month,  he  will  work  ex- 
actly one  Chinese  month,  or  four  times  seven  days,  and 
then  refuse  to  do  anything  on  the  two  or  three  remain- 
ing days  of  the  month  unless  he  gets  extra  pay.  Nash, 
in  his  "  Two  Years  in  Oregon,"  relates  a  funny  story  of 
a  Chinaman  who  accompanied  him  on  a  trip  through 
the  country.  On  arriving  at  a  steep  hill,  he  got  off  the 
wagon  and  made  John  get  off  too,  much  against  his 
will,  apparently;  for  presently,  on  looking  around,  he 
noticed  that  John  had  crawled  up  again  from  behind. 
On  being  remonstrated  with,  John  exclaimed,  "  Never 
mind  ;  horsee  no  see  me  get  in ;  they  know  no  better." 

The  same  writer  tells  of  a  Chinaman  who  stole  the 
picture  of  a  pretty  girl  from  an  album  and  concealed  it 
in  his  room.  And  an  Oregon  lady  related  to  me  an  in- 
cident which  gives  further  proof  that  John  has  a  sense 
of  beauty.  She  has  two  daughters,  one  a  very  pretty 
brunette  of  eleven,  the  other  a  blonde  with  irregular 
features  and  freckles.  Lee  had  one  day  promised  a 
handkerchief  to  the  blonde,  but  on  looking  at  the  two 
he  decided  to  give  it  to  the  other  one.  He  often  spoke 
of  her  beautiful  black  eyes,  "  just  like  a  China  girl's," 


POETLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  171 

and  said  he  would  take  her  along  to  China.  "  How 
much  will  you  give  ma  for  her  ?  "  asked  the  mother. 
"  Hundred  dollars,"  was  the  answer.  "And  how  much 
for  the  other  one  ?  "  "  Two  bits  "  (twenty-five  cents). 
Lee  used  to  tease  these  children  by  running  away  tow- 
ards his  cabin  with  their  favorite  cat,  pretending  that 
he  was  going  to  cook  her  for  dinner.  One  day  he  was 
left  alone  in  the  house,  and  when  the  family  returned 
late  in  the  evening,  they  found  he  had  attended  to 
everything,  even  to  winding  up  the  clock.  But  at  one 
o'clock  they  were  awakened  by  a  most  infernal  noise ; 
Lee,  with  the  thoroughness  of  his  race,  had  wound  up 
everything  he  could  find  —  alarm  clock  and  all ! 

Lee  always  gave  the  children  Christmas  presents  of 
preserved  ginger,  candy,  or  silk  handkerchiefs,  and  occa- 
sionally ten  cents  "  to  go  to  the  theatre  " ;  but  after  a 
time  he  became  lazy  and  unmanageable,  and  was  finally 
chased  away  because  he  impudently  gave  notice  that  he 
would  not  work  the  next  day :  "  To-mollow  I'll  be  sick." 

One  of  the  greatest  advantages  of  Portland  as  a  place 
of  residence  is  that  one  can  stay  here  all  the  year 
round,  as  there  are  very  few  days  in  summer  when  the 
thermometer  rises  high  enough  to  make  one  uncomfor- 
table ;  while  the  winter  climate  is  similar  to  that  of  Vir- 
ginia. When  a  few  successive  warm  days  do  come, 
however,  the  Portlanders  have  an  unusual  variety  of 
excursions  to  choose  from.  Picnic  boats  go  up  the 
Columbia  River  every  day,  to  visit  the  Cascades  or  the 
Multuomah  or  Latourelle  Falls.  Others  go  down  the 
river  to  Astoria  and  the  sea.  Mt.  Hood  can  be  reached 
in  a  few  hours,  and  a  hotel  has  been  built  near  the  great 
glacier,  where  fans  are  never  in  demand.  Portland 
is  a  hundred  miles  from  the  sea,  yet  it  has  three  sea- 


172  PORTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

side  resorts,  accessible  by  rail  or  boat,  which  are  much 
frequented  in  July  and  August,  less  because  the  city  is 
considered  uncomfortable,  than  because  all  residents  on 
the  Pacific  Coast  seem  to  have  a  passion  for  camping 
out  a  few  weeks  each  year. 

In  selecting  a  seaside  resort  on  the  North  Pacific 
Coast,  the  most  important  consideration,  next  to  a  good 
beach,  is  protection  from  the  cold  winds  which  often 
make  even  the  summer  months  chilly.  In  this  respect 
the  most  southerly  of  Portland's  summer  resorts,  at 
Yaquina  Bay,  is  well  favored.  It  is  situated  about  a 
hundred  miles  south  of  the  Columbia  River  bar ;  and 
expects  to  be  some  day  an  important  commercial  place, 
owing  to  the  facilities  for  transportation  of  wheat  and 
fruit  to  San  Francisco,  the  distance  being  two  hundred 
miles  less  than  from  Portland.  At  present  a  steamer 
leaves  every  two  weeks  for  the  Golden  Gate.  Newport, 
on  this  bay,  is  a  place  of  about  five  hundred  inhabitants, 
who  claim  that  their  town  will  never  need  a  fire  com- 
pany because  the  salt  spray  from  the  ocean  renders 
the  houses  fire-proof  —  an  assertion  which  they  probably 
expect  to  be  taken  cum  grano  salis.  Yaquina  Bay 
formed  part  of  a  large  Indian  reservation  until  1865, 
and  up  to  that  time  the  San  Franciscans  who  found  it 
profitable  to  fish  for  oysters  in  their  bay  had  to  pay 
the  Indians  a  shilling  a  bushel  for  this  privilege. 

The  other  two  seaside  resorts  of  Portlanders  are  due 
west,  —  Clatsop  being  a  few  miles  south  of  the  Columbia 
River  bar,  and  Ilwaco,  or  Long  Beach,  a  few  miles  north 
of  it.  Of  these  two,  by  far  the  most  frequented  to-day 
is  Long  Beach,  because  it  is  accessible  by  boat  and  rail, 
\vhile  Clatsop  has  hitherto  involved  a"  dusty  stage  ride 
of  eighteen  miles  from  Tansy  Point.  Ilwaco  is  opposite 


PORTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  173 

Astoria,  on  the  Washington  side  of  the  Columbia  estu- 
ary, and  lies  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the  long, 
sandy  peninsula  which  separates  Shoalwater  Bay  from 
the  Pacific.  A  few  years  ago  a  primitive  sort  of  rail- 
way was  built  on  this  peninsula  for  the  accommodation 
of  visitors  to  the  seaside,  and  now  hotels  and  camps 
are  scattered  along  its  whole  length.  There  are  two 
hotels,  but  they  are  expensive  and  not  very  good,  and 
most  of  the  Portlanders  prefer  to  bring  their  tents  along 
and  rough  it.  A  site  for  the  tent  may  be  purchased  for 
two  dollars  and  a  half  a  season,  and  hay  for  the  beds  is 
supplied  by  the  neighboring  farmers  to  those  who  are 
too  fastidious  to  use  the  fragrant  fern  which  is  an  om- 
nipresent and  irrepressible  weed  in  Washington  and 
Oregon.  Fern  has  its  advantages,  not  only  because  it 
costs  nothing,  but  because  it  offers  no  temptation  to  the 
cows  which  have  the  freedom  of  the  camp  in  the  early 
morning  hours.  It  is  hardly  conducive  to  comfortable 
rest  to  know  that  at  any  moment  after  daylight  a  cow 
may  poke  her  head  under  your  tent  and  chew  up  the 
substratum  of  your  bedding.  The  owners  of  these  cows 
provide  for  a  plentiful  supply  of  milk  and  vegetables, 
while  meat  is  daily  brought  from  Portland  or  Astoria, 
and  is  offered  for  sale,  together  with  canned  goods,  at 
booths  which  are  more  numerous  than  they  need  to  be. 
One  can  hardly  blame  these  venders  for  asking  some- 
what high  prices  for  their  supplies,  but  the  person  to 
guard  against  is  the  thrifty  farmer's  wife  who  buys 
"  store  "  butter  and  eggs  at  Ilwaco  and  then  peddles 
them  around  as  "  fresh  farm  products  "  at  double  prices. 
Shoalwater  Bay  is  a  famous  oyster-ground,  and  the 
bivalves,  together  with  mud-clams  and  razor-clams,  are 
daily  brought  over  to  the  camp.  These  oysters  are 


174  PORTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

small  and  inferior  in  flavor  to  Eastern  oysters.  Crabs 
and  fish  in  great  variety  are  also  to  be  had  for  a  trifle, 
but  the  popular  way  at  Long  Beach  is  to  catch  them 
yourself.  When  the  tide  recedes,  some  crabs  (occasion- 
ally weighing  four  or  five  pounds)  are  always  left  in 
the  hollows  on  the  beach,  where  they  can  be  easily 
caught.  But  once  every  month  there  are  several  morn- 
ings when  the  tide  recedes  about  half  a  mile,  and  then 
the  sport  becomes  lively.  Everybody  is  out  with  poles 
and  large  sacks,  in  which  the  crabs  are  packed  and  after- 
wards gathered  in  by  wagons.  Another  kind  of  sport 
peculiar  to  this  region  is  gathering  in  the  large  hake 
(two  to  five  pounders),  which  in  their  eager  pursuit  of 
sardines  are  occasionally  caught  by  the  breakers  and 
cast  ashore,  where  they  can  be  gathered  in  by  the  hun- 
dred. Larger  fish,  too,  are  often  cast  ashore,  among 
them  ten-foot  sturgeon,  and  large  salmon  with  a  big  hole 
in  the  side.  The  seals  which  abound  in  this  region 
have  a  destructive  and  abominable  habit  of  taking  some 
favorite  tidbit  out  of  the  salmon  and  then  leaving  them 
to  die.  These  dead  fish  on  the  beach  have  to  be  care- 
fully covered  with  sand,  or  else  they  become  a  mal- 
odorous nuisance. 

In  the  evening  the  scene  along  the  beach  is  rendered 
brilliant  by  numerous  bonfires,  fed  with  the  logs  that  are 
scattered  along  the  beach  in  countless  numbers.  These 
logs  are  brought  down  the  Columbia  during  the  high- 
water  season,  and  deposited  along  the  beach  for  miles 
each  way.  Some  of  them,  in  fact,  have  been  carried  to 
distant  islands  in  the  Pacific.  They  supply  the  campers 
with  plentiful  fuel,  and  no  one  objects  to  the  wasteful 
bonfires,  because  the  stock  is  replenished  every  year. 
During  storms  this  driftwood  adds  a  unique  element  of 


POETLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  175 

grandeur  to  the  scene,  the  huge  logs  being  tossed  about 
like  straws  by  the  angry  waves,  now  lifted  up  straight 
as  trees,  and  again  dashed  against  each  other  with  a 
thud  which  is  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  breakers. 

Long  Beach  is  a  place  where  even  a  victim  of  insom- 
nia will  sleep  ten  hours  every  night,  and  still  yawn  all 
day.  But  as  a  bathing-place  it  has  its  disadvantages. 
Bathing  on  the  North  Pacific  is  a  different  thing  from 
bathing  on  the  New  Jersey  coast.  The  waves  are  so 
rough  —  positively  rucle,  one  might  say  — and  the  under- 
tow so  strong,  that  there  is  only  one  hour  each  day 
when  bathing  becomes  safe  and  enjoyable.  This  hour 
varies  of  course  daily  with  the  tide,  and  a  bell  is  rung 
to  announce  it.  Immediately  hundreds  of  campers, 
who  have  put  on  their  bathing-suits  in  their  tents,  rush 
into  the  waves;  but  few  of  them  stay  in  more  than 
twenty  minutes,  as  the  water,  even  on  summer  after- 
noons, is  rarely  warm  enough  to  invite  a  longer  stay. 
That  it  is  perilous  to  go  into  the  water  at  any  other 
than  the  official  hour  announced  by  the  bell  is  proved 
by  the  sad  case  of  a  young  lady,  a  well-known  heiress, 
who  lost  her  life  here  a  few  years  ago.  She  was  en- 
gaged to  a  young  man,  whom  she  asked  one  day  to 
accompany  her  into  the  water  when  the  tide  was  going 
out.  Of  course  he  flatly  refused,  whereupon  she  was 
piqued  and  invited  another  young  man,  who  foolishly 
complied  with  her  request.  They  entered  the  breakers, 
when  suddenly  the  young  lady  disappeared  under  the 
waves  and  was  never  seen  again.  Although  a  large 
sum  was  offered  for  the  recovery  of  her  body,  it  was 
never  found,  and  it  is  possible  that  it  was  devoured  by 
sharks ;  for  these  fish  are  occasionally  seen  here,  though 
there  is  no  danger  near  shore,  and  the  noise  made  by 
the  bathers  is  said  to  frighten  them  away. 


176  PORTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

The  greatest  objection  to  Long  Beach  is  the  cold 
winds  which  almost  constantly  sweep  along  the  coast, 
very  often  accompanied  by  dense  fogs.  During  three 
weeks  in  July  and  August,  1889,  that  I  spent  there, 
the  sun  shone  only  on  five  days.  On  account  of  these 
disadvantages  it  is  probable  that  before  long  Clatsop 
Beach  will  become  the  favorite  summer  resort  of  Port- 
landers,  because  it  is  protected  against  wind  and  fogs 
by  Tillamook  Head  on  one  side,  and  forests  on  another. 
A  railroad  has  just  been  built  to  Clatsop,  and  it  is  prob- 
able that  this  summer  the  Portlanders  will  desert  their 
favorite  Long  Beach  and  establish  their  summer  quar- 
ters at  Clatsop,  which  has  the  additional  merit,  from 
their  own  patriotic  point  of  view,  of  being  in  Oregon, 
while  Long  Beach  is  in  Washington. 

From  Clatsop  a  very  interesting  excursion  can  be 
made  on  foot  to  Tillamook  Head,  where  a  much-needed 
lighthouse  was  built  ten  years  ago  in  a  most  exposed 
and  romantic  situation.  It  stands  on  an  isolated  rock, 
about  a  mile  from  the  shore,  and  twenty  miles  south  of 
the  Columbia  River  bar.  The  foreman  of  the  party 
that  built  the  lighthouse  was  swept  away  by  the  waves 
and  drowned,  when  he  first  put  foot  on  the  rock,  and 
the  workmen  were  repeatedly  in  great  danger  while 
building  the  lighthouse,  being  once  cut  off  from  all 
supplies  for  over  two  weeks  by  a  storm.  The  almost 
incredible  fury  of  the  "Pacific"  Ocean  when  it  gets 
roused  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  during  a 
recent  winter  storm  the  wild  waves  broke  over  this 
tower,  the  summit  of  which  is  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
six  feet  above  sea-level,  leaving  fish  and  rocks  scattered 
on  the  roof.  One  of  these  rocks  weighed  sixty-two 
pounds,  and  is  now  on  exhibition  in  Portland. 


PORTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  177 

Sea-lions  are  abundant  in  this  neighborhood,  and  it  is 
interesting  to  watch  them  fishing  for  salmon,  or  quietly 
basking  in  the  sunshine  on  the  rugged  rocks,  regardless 
of  the  cacophonous  roaring  of  the  monstrous  sentinels. 
The  Indians  have  a  tradition  that  pearl-oysters  used  to 
be  obtained  a  few  miles  off  shore ;  but  at  present  the  less 
ornamental  but  more  useful  rock-oyster  only  is  to  be 
found,  together  with  mussels  and  razor-clams,  which 
have  their  habitat  on  the  sandy  shore,  and  on  being  dis- 
turbed dig  their  way  down  so  rapidly,  that  it  requires 
some  skill  to  catch  them  with  a  little  spade.  In  some 
places  along  the  beach  the  curious  phenomenon  of 
"singing  sands  "  is  encountered,  the  sand  on  being  trod 
on  giving  out  a  peculiar  sound. 

The  Elk  Creek  region,  through  which  this  part  of  the 
coast  is  approached,  is  a  veritable  hunter's  and  botan- 
ist's paradise.  Here  bears  and  deer  abound,  and  more 
dangerous  game,  like  timber  wolves  and  cougars,  may 
be  encountered,  as  well  as  otter  and  beaver.  In  the 
south  fork  of  Elk  Creek  there  is  good  trout-fishing. 
But  it  requires  a  decided  talent  for  "  roughing  it "  to 
enjoy  all  these  things;  for  here  we  are  in  a  forest  truly 
primeval,  where  paths  are  few  and  far  between,  and 
where  the  sunlight  rarely  penetrates  through  the  dense 
groups  of  firs  and  spruce  to  impede  the  growth  of  the 
moisture-loving  ferns  and  mosses  which  carpet  the 
ground  everywhere.  Trees  of  over  two  hundred  feet 
in  height  and  straight  as  masts  abound,  some  of  them 
up  to  ten  feet  in  diameter,  and  therefore  too  large  to 
tempt  the  lumbermen  to  destroy  them. 

As  for  these  Oregon  mosses  and  ferns,  one  would 
have  to  seek  in  moist  tropical  regions  for  anything  to 
match  them  in  variety,  beauty,  ancj.  verdant  luxuriance, 


178  PORTLAND  AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

Not  only  is  the  ground  covered  so  deeply  that  one  could 
walk  noiselessly,  were  it  not  for  the  dead  twigs,  but 
every  tree,  standing  or  prostrate,  has  its  green  mossy 
cover.  Rotten  logs  are  adorned  with  ferns  waving 
gracefully  over  the  lovely  mosses  amidst  which  they 
have  gained  foothold ;  and  even  the  rocks,  which  are  so 
bare  and  bleak  in  California,  are  here  covered  with  a 
mosaic  of  mosses  and  lichens  —  green,  gray,  red,  and 
yellow.  Of  the  ferns  the  loveliest  is,  of  course,  the 
black-stemmed  maiden-hair,  which  attains  a  height  of 
several  feet  along  the  banks  of  shaded  brooks,  and 
looks  so  graceful  as  it  waves  about  in  the  gentle  breezes 
that  it  seems  fully  to  deserve  its  poetic  name.  Less 
graceful  and  poetic  is  the  common  Oregon  fern,  which 
sometimes  grows  as  high  as  California  wild  mustard,  so 
that  hunters  may  lose  their  way  in  it,  and  which  is, 
from  an  aesthetic  point  of  view,  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing features  of  Oregon,  since  it  covers  up  the  unattrac- 
tive gray  of  the  soil  everywhere  with  a  delicate  pale 
green  garb  which  contrasts  delightfully  with  the  darker 
green  of  the  fir-trees.  But  the  farmers  look  on  this 
species  of  fern  as  a  dreadful  nuisance,  because  it  is  the 
most  irrepressible  of  all  weeds,  whose  roots  have  more 
lives  than  cats.  Oregon,  it  must  be  admitted,  is  almost 
as  weed-ridden  as  California.  Besides  the  fern,  the 
most  troublesome  weeds  are  sorrel,  dog-fennel,  wild 
carrots,  and  oats,  thistles,  and  the  beautiful  corn-flowers 
in  every  imaginable  color.  The  most  curious  thing 
about  these  Oregon  weeds  is  the  tendency  they  have  to 
supplant  each  other  every  three  years,  as  if  there  were 
fashions  among  weeds.  But  whereas  thistles  and  wild 
carrots  and  corn-flowers  may  come  and  go,  the  fern 
always  remains,  unless  it  is  ploughed  down  persistently, 


POKTLAND   AND   ITS   SEA-BEACHES.  179 

and  a  harrowing  war  is  waged  against  the  last  inch  of 
root  remaining  in  the  soil. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  a  soil  which  is  so  favor- 
able to  the  growth  of  weeds  also  extends  a  generous 
welcome  to  flowers.  This  is  most  strikingly  shown  on 
deserted  farms  where  annual  garden  flowers  continue  to 
seed  themselves  year  after  year,  without  any  care.  I 
have  seen  half-a-dozen  garden  species  of  flowers  growing 
wild  in  a  place  where  they  had  received  no  attention  for 
twenty  years.  Wild  flowers  do  not  grow  here  in  such 
profusion  or  variety  as  in  California,  but  there  are  few 
flowers  in  California  that  equal  in  beauty  the  pendent 
red  clusters  of  the  wild  Oregon  currant,  or  the  trifolium, 
whose  petals  are  at  first  snow-white,  and  subsequently 
change  to  purple.  Lilies  of  the  valley,  tiger-lilies,  bleed- 
ing hearts,  lady's-slippers,  iris,  columbines,  larkspur,  and 
many  other  flowers  that  are  carefully  reared  in  Eastern 
gardens,  grow  wild  here  in  great  profusion. 

In  the  matter  of  berries,  Oregon  is  greatly  ahead  of 
California.  The  delicious  wild  strawberries  on  long 
stems  are  so  abundant  in  May  and  June  that  they  per- 
fume the  air  along  country  roads  like  clover-fields. 
Blackberries  are  even  more  numerous,  and  a  single 
county  of  Oregon  would  supply  enough  for  all  our 
Eastern  cities.  Wild  currants  and  gooseberries  are  also 
abundant,  as  well  as  black  and  red  raspberries  and  huc- 
kleberries. Then  there  are  berries  peculiar  to  Oregon 
and  Washington,  including  the  yellow  salmon-berries, 
the  scarlet  thimble-berries,  and  the  odd  salal,  a  bush 
which  grows  everywhere  and  is  quite  ornamental  with 
its  glossy  leaves  and  bell-shaped  white  flowers  which 
turn  into  bluish  black  berries  of  a  rather  agreeable  flavor. 
Usually  these  berries  are  small  and  dry,  but  in  the 


180  PORTLAND   AND  ITS   SEA-BEACHES. 

swampy  regions  along  the  seacoast  they  grow  as  large 
as  gooseberries,  and  are  very  sweet,  although  care  has  to 
be  used  in  eating  them,  as  they  are  apt  to  be  inhabited. 
Bears  are  very  fond  of  these  salal-berries.  But  perhaps 
the  most  curious  berry  in  the  State  is  the  so-called  Ore- 
gon "grape,"  a  small  blue  berry  which  makes  good  wine, 
but  requires  plenty  of  sugar,  as  it  is  perhaps  the  sourest 
thing  that  grows,  unless  it  be  the  Oregon  crab-apple,  a 
small  berry-like  fruit  growing  in  clusters,  and  of  which 
a  jam  is  made  that  would  give  European  or  Eastern 
epicures  a  new  sensation  of  delight.  Speaking  of  epi- 
cures, I  claim  to  be  an  amateur  in  that  line  myself,  and  I 
must  acknowledge  that  I  have  never  tasted  any  French 
chateau  wine  with  a  more  agreeable  bouquet  than  that  of 
Oregon  cider  made  exclusively  of  the  finest  apple  that 
grows  —  white  winter  pearmain — and  kept  in  bottles, 
unfermented. 

The  wild  oranges  which  grow  in  Mexico  indicate  that 
oranges,  lemons,  and  limes  must  be  among  the  most 
profitable  crops  grown  there ;  and  in  the  same  way  the 
wild  crab-apples,  cherries,  various  sorts  of  berries,  and 
wild  oats  prophetically  indicated  that  the  wealth  of 
Oregon  lay  in  the  systematic  cultivation  of  fruit,  berries, 
and  grain. 

I  have  apparently  wandered  away  from  my  topic, 
which,  I  believe,  was  Portland  and  its  summer  resorts ; 
but  these  things  may  as  well  be  referred  to  here  as  else- 
where, since  all  of  rural  Oregon  is  practically  a  summer 
resort.  I  can  only  briefly  refer  to  other  attractions,  such 
as  the  numerous  wild  canaries  and  other  song-birds 
which  fill  the  Oregon  air  with  glad  music  ;  or  the  game- 
birds  which  may  still  be  hunted  but  a  few  miles  from 
Portland,  —  the  stoical,  hooting  grouse  on  the  tree-tops, 


POKTLAND  AND  ITS  SEA-BEACHES.  181 

undaunted  by  the  repeated  shots  of  the  amateur  rifle- 
man ;  the  partridges,  which  do  not  allow  a  passing  train 
to  disturb  them  at  their  breakfast  in  a  wheat-field ;  or 
the  wild  pigeons,  which  save  you  the  trouble  of  hunting 
them  by  giving  you  a  few  shots  at  them  every  morning 
on  your  cherry-trees ;  or  the  deer,  which  still  abound  in 
the  mountains ;  etc.  But  in  conclusion  I  must  once  more 
refer  to  what  after  all  constitutes  the  greatest  charm 
and  attraction  of  Oregon,  next  to  the  snow-peaks ; 
namely,  the  omnipresent  fir-trees,  tall,  stately,  dark 
green,  and  shady.  Artists  and  others  who  have  grown 
up  in  firless  countries  can  have  no  idea  of  the  true  gran- 
deur and  beauty  of  a  real  forest,  of  the  cathedral-like 
gloom  and  silence  in  its  midst,  of  the  exquisite  serrated 
lines  formed  by  the  branching  tree-tops  standing  against 
a  deep  blue  sky,  and  of  the  infinite  variety  of  tints  and 
shadows  produced  by  the  play  of  clouds  and  of  sunlight 
at  different  hours  of  the  day.  More  beautiful  still,  if 
less  imposing,  than  the  full-grown  trees,  are  the  young 
fir-trees  of  ten  to  thirty  feet  in  height  which  are  rapidly 
filling  up  the  regions  destroyed  by  forest  fires.  They 
look  like  so  many  square  miles  of  Christmas-trees,  but 
no  Christmas-trees  adorned  by  Santa  Claus  with  colored 
wax  candles  ever  present  so  brilliant  an  appearance  as 
those  young  fir  groves  when  the  morning  or  evening  sun 
shines  horizontally  on  them.  Such  lights  and  shades  are 
to  be  seen  nowhere  else  in  the  world,  and  the  tints  seem 
so  warm  and  glowing  that  on  a  cold  morning  one  invol- 
untarily edges  up  to  them  to  get  warm. 


XII. 
UP  AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

AN    UNGRATEFUL      REPUBLIC THE      COLUMBIA      COMPARED 

"WITH      OTHER       RIVERS   SNOW-PEAKS   SALMON-CAN- 
NERIES   ASTORIA     AND    THE    MOUTH     OF     THE    RIVER 

CAPE    HORN    AND    ROOSTER    ROCK WATER-FALLS THE 

CASCADES SALMON-WHEELS  IN      THE      HIGHLANDS  

THE  LAST  OF  THE  MOHICANS  —  LOW   AND    HIGH    WATER 

THE  SCENERY  AND  THE  RAILROAD THE    "  PLACE  OF  THE 

WINDS  " "  SWIFT      WATER  " A      RIVER      TURNED      ON 

EDGE. 

THE  proverbial  ingratitude  of  republics  has  never 
been  better  illustrated  than  by  the  fact  that  not  one  of 
our  forty-two  States  is  named  after  the  discoverer  of 
America.  True,  there  are  more  than  fifty  Columbia 
counties,  townships,  cities,  and  villages  in  the  United 
States,  and  thirty  more  have  adopted  the  name  Colum- 
bus, while  the  capital  of  the  country  lies  in  the  District 
of  Columbia ;  but  this  district  comprises  .an  area  of  only 
sixty-four  square  miles,  and  in  a  country  where  so  much 
is  thought  of  big  things,  Columbus  surely  ought  to  have 
been  sponsor  of  one  of  our  largest  States.  An  excellent 
opportunity  was  missed,  on  the  occasion  of  the  recent 
admission  of  Washington  Territory  to  statehood,  of 
changing  its  name  to  Columbia.  This  would  not  only 
have  prevented  much  confusion  in  the  mails,  but  would 
182 


FP   AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER.  183 

have  been  singularly  appropriate,  for  the  reason  that 
Washington  is  bounded  on  the  south  by  the  Columbia 
River,  and  on  the  north  by  British  Columbia.1 

However,  even  if  it  failed  to  use  its  opportunity  for 
adopting  the  name  of  Columbia  for  one  of  its  States, 
the  Northwest  has  done  more  to  honor  the  name  of 
Columbus  than  any  other  part  of  the  country ;  for  here 
is  British  Columbia  with  its  magnificent  mountain 
scenery,  more  than  eight  times  as  large  as  the  State  of 
New  York ;  and,  better  still,  the  Columbia  River,  three 
thousand  miles  in  length,  with  the  grandest  river 
scenery  in  the  world.  I  have  repeatedly  seen  the  Hud- 
son, the  St.  Lawrence,  Mississippi,  Missouri,  Sacra- 
mento, the  Rhine,  Elbe,  and  Danube,  and  none  of  these 
rivers  impressed  me  as  deeply  as  the  Columbia,  which, 
with  the  exception  of  the  castles  on  the  Rhine,  com- 
bines the  best  features  of  all  of  them,  and  adds  to  them 
what  they  all  lack  —  a  background  of  lofty  mountains 
covered  with  eternal  snow.  Grandeur  is  the  watchword 
of  the  Columbia,  which,  with  this  mountainous  back- 
ground and  the  stupendous  sculpture  of  its  banks, 
towers  above  other  famous  rivers  as  the  high  Alps  of 
Switzerland  do  above  our  Adirondacks  and  Catskills. 

In  entitling  this  chapter  "  Up  and  down  the  Colum- 
bia "  I  do  not  wish  to  frighten  the  reader  into  the 
belief  that  I  intend  to  take  him  over  the  same  ground 
—  or  water  —  twice,  but  merely  to  indicate  that  Port- 
land is  to  be  our  starting -place.  From  that  city 
steamers  leave  daily  to  make  the  trip  of  one  hundred 
miles  down  to  Astoria  and  the  ocean,  while  others  go 
up  the  river  about  one  hundred  and  ten  miles,  to  the 

1  When  Washington  Territory  was  separated  from  Oregon,  an  effort 
was  made  to  have  it  named  Columbia,  but  it  was  defeated  in  Congress. 


184  UP   AND   DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

Falls.  The  former  trip  should  be  taken  first,  to  avoid 
an  anticlimax. 

Portland,  Oregon,  —  which,  although  founded  two 
centuries  later  than  its  namesake  in  almost  the  same 
latitude  in  Maine,  has  already  almost  double  the  popu- 
lation of  the  latter  (sixty  thousand),  —  is,  as  I  remarked 
in  the  last  chapter,  doubtless  the  most  picturesquely 
situated  city  in  the  United  States.  From  the  densely 
wooded  green  hills  which  enclose  it  on  the  west,  the 
city  is  seen  spreading  itself  comfortably  and  without 
unsanitary  crowding  along  both  sides  of  the  Willamette 
River,  which  is  about  a  mile  wide  at  this  place.  East 
Portland  and  Albina  are  on  the  east  side  of  the  river, 
and  beyond  them,  at  a  distance  of  about  fifty  miles, 
this  picture  is  framed  in  by  the  Cascade  Range  and 
half-a-dozen  giant  snow-peaks.  Mt.  Hood  and  Mt.  St. 
Helens,  both  covered  with  eternal  snow,  are  so  vast 
that  on  clear  days  they  seem  to  rise  just  beyond  the 
outskirts  of  the  city,  and  delightful  glimpses  of  them 
are  caught  in  the  streets.  Less  conspicuous,  because 
farther  away,  but  still  adding  to  the  charm  of  the  scene, 
are  Mt.  Tacoma  and  Mt.  Adams  on  the  left,  while  on 
the  right,  the  snowy  tops  of  Mt.  Jefferson  and  the  three 
sisters  are  visible.  To  the  left  of  Mt.  Hood  the  Colum- 
bia River  can  be  seen  in  the  distance,  like  a  silver  cord 
showing  the  way  to  the  deep  canon  which  it  has  worn 
through  the  Cascade  Mountains. 

Portland  is  practically  a  seaport,  although  situated  a 
hundred  miles  up  the  Columbia,  and  twelve  miles  more 
up  its  tributary,  the  Willamette,  which,  up  to  this 
point,  is  deep  enough  to  receive  the  largest  ocean  steam- 
ers, although  in  dry  summers  the  channel  has  to  be 
carefully  watched,  and  lighterage  resorted  to  in  some 


UP   AND   DOWN  THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER.  185 

cases.  For  hours  after  the  day  boat  to  Astoria  leaves 
the  city,  the  snow-mountains  above  mentioned  are  visi- 
ble on  deck,  in  ever-new  groupings  as  the  boat  follows 
the  winding  course  of  the  river.  This  is  by  far,  the 
most  striking  feature  of  the  lower  Columbia  scenery; 
for  the  minor  ridges  of  the  coast  range  are  insignifi- 
cant compared  with  the  cascade  ridges  of  the  "  middle  " 
Columbia,  and  the  fir-fringed  banks  are  usually  low, 
and  have  none  of  the  steep  palisades  and  isolated  rocks 
which  give  continuous  grandeur  to  that  part  of  the 
river.  The  banks  of  the  Willamette  River,  below 
Portland,  resemble  those  of  the  Columbia,  and  indeed 
this  river,  which  is  hardly  known  outside  of  Oregon, 
becomes  so  wide  and  majestic  before  it  .reaches  the  Co- 
lumbia, that  a  careless  passenger  would  not  notice  the 
transition  from  one  river  to  the  other.  It  would  be  dim- 
cult,  however,  to  be  inattentive  here,  for  the  place  where 
the  Columbia  receives  the  Willamette  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  spots  in  its  course.  The  Willamette  — 
which  should  be  called  the  Oregon,  since  that  name  has 
been  taken  away  from  the  Columbia  ("  where  rolls  the 
mighty  Oregon,"  as  Bryant  still  could  write),  or  should 
at  least  receive  back  its  old  Indian  name  Wallamet  — 
meets  the  Columbia  almost  at  right  angles  in  two  cur- 
rents, being  divided  here  by  one  of  those  pretty  little 
islands  which  abound  along  this  part  of  the  river  and 
give  it  some  resemblance  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  They 
are  submerged  in  spring,  and  but  a  few  inches  above 
the  level  of  the  water  in  summer,  when  they  are  CQV- 
ered  with  a  luxuriant  growth  of  grass  and  shrubbery  — 
ideal  grazing-grounds  for  thousands  of  head  of  cattle; 
yet  Oregon  still  imports  much  of  her  meat  and  butter 
from  the  East. 


186  TJT  AND  DOWN   THE  COLUMBIA  BIVEE. 

As  the  river-banks  become  wider  and  wider,  and  the 
scenery  somewhat  monotonous,  the  salmon  industry  be- 
gins to  attract  attention.  During  the  legal  salmon  sea- 
son, from  the  first  of  April  to  the  end  of  July  —  which 
is  also  the  tourist  season  in  Oregon,  since  in  July  the 
forest  fires  begin  which  shroud  the  whole  State,  with  its 
fine  mountain  scenery,  in  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke,  last- 
ing till  September  —  the  river  steamers  are  liable  to  be 
stopped  at  any  moment  in  midstream  by  boats  loaded  to 
the  edge  with  salmon,  which  are  to  be  conveyed  to  one 
of  the  numerous  canneries  that  line  the  last  thirty  miles 
of  the  stream.  These  canneries  are  buildings  of  the 
flimsiest  construction,  inhabited  chiefly  by  Chinamen, 
and  by  young  bears  caught  in  the  neighboring  hills  and 
chained  to  the  front  door.  The  salmon  are  thrown  on 
the  wharf,  where  they  are  seized  by  the  Chinamen,  who 
carry  them  in,  throw  them  on  long  tables,  chop  off  the 
heads,  disembowel  and  clean  them,  and  cut  them  up  into 
small  lumps  for  the  cans  —  all  in  about  as  much  time  as 
it  takes  to  write  this  sentence.  In  the  larger  canneries 
everything,  from  the  making  of  the  cans  to  putting  on 
the  labels,  is  done  on  the  premises.  Some  of  the  can- 
neries are  built  on  the  shore  ;  but  as  the  river,  where 
the  ocean  comes  in  sight,  widens  out  into  a  bay  seven 
miles  wide,  the  canneries  are  built  in  midstream,  on 
piles,  and  it  is  an  odd  sight  to  behold  horses  —  real  land- 
horses,  not  hippopotami  —  dragging  in  the  nets  on  these 
flimsy  mid-river  structures.  The  river  view  is  dis- 
figured on  all  sides  by  the  ugly  stakes  driven  in  to  hold 
the  nets  that  constitute  the  salmon-traps.  The  meshes  of 
these  nets  are  large  enough  to  allow  the  small  salmon  to 
escape,  but  not  large  enough  for  the  seals,  which  occa- 
sionally get  into  one  of  these  enclosures  and  work  sad 


TIP   AND  DOWN  THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER.  187 

havoc  with  the  fish  and  the  nets.  Several  million  dol- 
lars are  said  to  be  invested  in  the  boats,  nets,  and'  can- 
neries of  the  Columbia  River:  but  the  recklessness  of 
the  fishermen  threatens  to  kill  the  goose  that  lays  the 
golden  eggs ;  for  the  Columbia  River  fisheries,  which  a 
few  years  ago  were  the  largest  in  the  world,  have  of 
late  yielded  less  and  less  each  year,  and  in  1889  they 
sank  to  third  rank,  with  three  hundred  and  thirty  thou- 
sand cases,  Alaska  being  at  the  head,  with  six  hundred 
and  eighty -eight  thousand,  and  British  Columbia  second, 
with  four  hundred  and  thirteen  thousand  cases.  The 
law  is  stringent  enough,  but  it  is  not  always  obeyed ; 
and  it  will  have  to  be  supplemented  by  extensive  hatch- 
eries if  the  Columbia  River  salmon,  which  is  the  best 
flavored  on  the  Pacific  Coast,  is  to  regain  its  former 
supremacy. 

The  headquarters  of  the  salmon-fisheries  are  located 
at  the  amphibious  town  of  Astoria,  the  first  civilized  set- 
tlement in  Oregon,  but  whose  hoary  age  of  eighty  years 
does  not  seem  to  protect  it  against  the  gibes  of  irrever- 
ent tourists  —  probably  because  it  is  so  small  for  its  age. 
Mr.  Joaquin  Miller  describes  it  as  a  town  which  "clings 
helplessly  to  a  humid  hill-side  that  seems  to  want  to 
glide  into  the  great  bay-like  river " ;  and  Mr.  Nordhoff 
unkindly  insinuates  that  the  most  important  building  in 
the  town  is  a  large  saw-mill,  which  is  kept  busy  day  and 
night  in  a  wild  struggle  to  curb  and  suppress  the  forest 
which  is  forever  encroaching  on  the  town,  and  threatens 
to  crowd  it  into  the  river.  However,  just  at  present  the 
Astorians  are  very  busily  engaged  in  digging  away  at 
the  hill-side  and  filling  up  the  bay.  They  expect  to  have 
a  railway  some  day,  which  will  bring  the  wheat  and  the 
apples  of  the  Willamette  Valley  to  their  wharves,  instead 


188  UP   AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA   EIVEB. 

of  to  Portland ;  but  it  will  require  a  good  deal  more 
digging  and  filling  up  before  there  will  be  room  for  all 
those  products.  At  present  the  greater  part  of  Astoria 
is  still  built  on  piles,  washed  by  the  tides ;  and  as  the 
pavements  are  not  very  well  looked  after,  tourists  should 
beware  of  walking  about  after  dark.  The  occupants  of 
many  of  the  houses  might  easily  take  a  salt-water  bath 
before  breakfast,  by  simply  tying  a  rope  round  the  waist 
and  lowering  themselves  from  the  window. 

Although  Astoria  is  only  about  a  hundred  miles  dis- 
tant from  Portland,  it  has  nearly  twenty  inches  more  of 
rain  per  annum,  and  in  summer  its  climate  is  consider- 
ably cooler ;  wherefore  some  Portlanders  use  it  as  a  sum- 
mer resort.  A  much  larger  number,  however,  go  across 
the  bay  to  Ilwaco,  and  camp  on  the  fine  beach  which 
extends  for  over  twenty  miles  'northward.  The  boat 
which  takes  them  across  touches  at  Fort  Canby,  whence 
an  interesting  walk  of  a  few  miles  through  a  dense  for- 
est takes  one  to  the  lighthouse  on  Cape  Disappointment, 
just  north  of  the  notorious  Columbia  River  bar,  which  in 
spite  of  all  improvements  continues  at  certain  seasons, 
and  in  stormy  weather,  to  detain  ships  for  days  at  a  time. 
The  view  from  this  lighthouse  of  the  foaming  breakers 
in  the  bar  is  splendid,  and  in  low  tide  the  scene  is  varied 
by  long  sand-banks  on  which  thousands  of  seals  bask  in 
the  fitful  sunshine.  These  voracious  animals  do  their  fish- 
ing in  the  daytime,  and  at  night  their  place  is  taken  by 
the  human  fishermen,  who  show  the  same  reckless  spirit 
in  regard  to  their  own  lives  as  they  do  in  regard  to  the 
extermination  of  the  salmon.  In  their  eager  rivalry, 
some  of  them  approach  too  near  the  breakers,  and  many 
have  thus  shared  the  fate  of  the  sailors  lowered  from 
the  Tonquin  in  1811,  which  is  so  graphically  described 


UP   AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER.  189 

by  Washington  Irving  in  his  "  Astoria."  By  the  way, 
I  could  not  help  noting  the  difference  between  these 
Astorians  and  the  Granadans  in  Spain,  in  their  attitude 
towards  Irving.  Both  have  been  celebrated  by  him  in 
fine  volumes  of  poetic  prose ;  but  whereas  in  Granada  the 
principal  hotel  is  named  after  Irving,  whose  name  is 
thus  heard  whenever  a  train  arrives,  the  Astorians  seem 
to  ignore  entirely  the  author  who  has  chosen  the  name 
of  their  town  for  one  of  his  most  readable  books. 

The  trip  back  to  Portland  may  as  well  be  made  on  a 
night  boat,  as  everything  worth  seeing  can  be  seen  on 
the  down  trip.  Not  so  with  the  upper  or  "  middle  " 
Columbia,  from  Portland  to  the  Dalles,  which  cannot  be 
seen  often  enough,  and  which  present  on  the  down  trip 
aspects  of  the  scenery  so  different  from  those  enjoyed  on 
going  up,  that  a  return  ticket  should  be  taken  by  all 
means.  Such  a  ticket,  from  Portland  to  the  Dalles  and 
back,  costs  five  dollars,  for  which  you  can  spend  two 
whole  days  on  the  Columbia.  I  have  seen  a  great  part 
of  three  continents ;  but  if  I  were  asked  what  I  consid- 
ered the  best  investment  of  a  five-dollar  bill  I  had  ever 
made  for  combined  aesthetic  enjoyment  and  hygienic 
exhilaration,  I  should  name  this  return  trip  on  the 
Columbia  River.  Tourists  who  have  time  for  one  trip 
only  should  go  up  the  river,  because  in  that  direction 
the  scenery  is  arranged  most  effectively,  becoming  ever 
grander  and  wilder  till  the  climax  is  reached  in  the 
marvellous  rapids  above  Dalles  City. 

The  day  boat  leaves  Portland  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  on  the  way  down  the  Willamette  we  once 
more  can  admire  the  imposing  white  forms  of  Hood,  St. 
Helens,  Adams,  and  the  top  of  Tacoma,  —  now  in  full 
view,  now  peeping  from  between  the  firs  which  line  the 


190  TJP  AND   DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER. 

banks.  At  the  Columbia  junction  the  boat  turns  to  the 
right,  and  makes  its  first  stop  at  Vancouver,  noted  for 
its  fine  site,  with  a  superb  view  of  Mt.  Hood,  and  as 
being  the  military  headquarters  of  the  Department  of 
the  Columbia.  It  lies  on  the  northern  or  Washington 
side  of  the  river,  and,  oddly  enough,  almost  all  the  sta- 
tions along  the  whole  river,  excepting  Dalles  City,  are 
on  that  side,  the  Oregon  side  being  generally  wilder  and 
less  hospitable.  The  scenic  features  are  about  equally 
divided  between  the  two  States.  Each  has  its  low  green 
islands  at  intervals  along  the  banks;  each  its  densely 
wooded  shores,  its  bare  rocks,  precipitous  palisades  and 
water-falls;  and  each  its  snow-mountains  —  Hood  and 
Jefferson  being  on  the  Oregon  side,  St.  Helens,  Adams, 
and  Tacoma  on  the  Washington  side.  Generally  the 
trees  or  shrubs  grow  right  to  the  water's  edge,  but  here 
and  there  is  a  strip  of  sandy  beach.  On  both  sides  there 
are  innumerable  charming  home  sites,  on  gently  rising 
ground,  with  fertile  soil,  plenty  of  wood  and  water, 
excellent  market  facilities  by  rail  and  steamer,  and 
the  finest  scenery  in  the  United  States  for  a  back- 
ground. Yet  these  shores,  which  in  the  next  century 
will  hold  hundreds  of  thousands  of  happy  farmers,  are 
now  an  absolute  wilderness,  and  an  hour  may  pass  be- 
fore a  farmhouse  or  village  is  sighted  from  the  steamer. 
Had  the  unreasoning  multitudes  who  rushed  to  Okla- 
homa quietly  taken  up  homesteads  in  this  region,  which 
is  so  favored  by  climate,  soil,  and  scenery,  they  would 
have  avoided  their  wholesale  disappointment.  The 
steamship  company  is  very  accommodating  to  the  few 
settlers  along  the  river,  and  stops  at  frequent  intervals 
to  take  on  their  lumber,  shingles,  salmon,  farm  prod- 
ucts, and  to  land  merchandise  for  them.  In  low  water 


HP   AND  DOWN   THE  COLUMBIA   RIVER.  191 

much  ingenuity  is  required  to  make  a  landing  at  these 
informal  stations. 

Two  hours  after  leaving  Portland,  Mt.  Hood,  whose 
base  has  been  previously  concealed  by  the  Cascade 
ridges,  suddenly  comes  into  view,  life  size,  from  top  to 
base.  Were  the  banks  of  the  Columbia  as  flat  and 
monotonous  as  those  of  the  lower  Mississippi,  this  sight 
alone  would  crown  it  king  of  rivers.  For  a  full  hour 
the  steamer  sails  straight  towards  this  mountain,  as  if 
intending  to  land  at  its  base  for  a  supply  of  ice  from  its 
glaciers ;  but  all  at  once  it  moves  to  the  left  as  the 
steamer  provokingly  changes  its  course.  For  two  hours 
more,  however,  the  mountain  remains  in  sight  till  it  is 
once  more  hidden  behind  the  crests  of  the  Cascades. 
Tourists  who  wish  to  ascend  this  mountain  or  to  explore 
its  glaciers  and  canons,  get  off  above  the  Cascades  at 
the  town  of  Hood  River,  near  the  mouth  of  the  river 
of  that  name  which  carries  the  melting  snows  of  the 
mountain  to  the  Columbia.  A  hotel  was  opened  last 
summer,  just  below  the  snow-line,  so  that  the  trip 
can  now  be  made  with  great  comfort.  Mt.  Hood  is 
eleven  thousand  and  two  hundred  feet  high,  and  is 
ascended  by  numerous  parties  every  summer,  including 
ladies.  Like  all  the  Oregon  chain  of  mountain  peaks 
from  Shasta  to  Tacoma,  it  is  an  extinct  volcano,  and 
still  gives  evidence  of  its  past  condition  by  the  sulphu- 
rous fumes  which  in  some  places  are  encountered  during 
the  ascent. 

Nothing  could  be  more  delightful  than  the  ingenuity 
with  which  the  Columbia  panorama  is  arranged.  For 
the  first  five  hours,  while  the  banks  present  nothing  of 
thrilling  interest,  the  giant  snow-peaks  lend  grandeur 
to  the  scene.  As  soon  as  the  last  of  these,  Mt.  Hood, 


192  UP   AND   DOWN  THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER. 

disappears,  the  banks  themselves  begin  to  fascinate 
the  attention  by  innumerable  picturesque  formations, 
and  a  few  hours  later,  when  the  Highlands  have  been 
left  behind  and  the  banks  become  lower  again,  Mt. 
Hood  once  more  comes  into  view,  more  and  more  prom- 
inently, till  at  the  last  station  of  our  trip,  the  Dalles,  it 
seems  nearer  and  more  magnificent  than  even  at  Van- 
couver or  Portland.  Thus  there  is  not  a  dull  moment 
between  Portland  and  the  Dalles. 

The  river  itself  is  almost  as  awe-inspiring  in  its 
grandeur  as  the  snow-peaks  visible  from  it.  No  other 
river  has  ever  given  me  such  a  vivid  and  overpowering 
sense  of  sublimity  as  the  Columbia  by  its  great  expanse 
of  watery  surface,  and  its  tranquil,  deep,  majestic  move- 
ment. And  whereas  the  Mississippi,  at  a  corresponding 
point  in  its  course,  is  so  muddy  that  one  almost  hesi- 
tates to  bathe  in  it,  the  Columbia  is  so  clear  and  pure 
that  in  a  glass  it  seems  like  well-water  and  tastes  almost 
as  good.  The  color  varies  with  wind  and  weather,  but 
is  usually  a  yellowish  green,  as  grateful  to  the  eye  as  a 
new-mown  lawn.  Standing  at  the  prow  of  the  boat, 
surveying  this  vast  expanse  of  placid  or  agitated  water, 
it  is  a  fascinating  exercise  of  the  imagination  to  think 
that  almost  every  gallon  of  this  mammoth  stream  came 
originally  from  some  different  creek,  spring,  melting 
glacier,  or  snowfield — some  of  them  in  the  Cascade 
Mountains  close  by,  some  in  the  Rocky  Mountains  in 
distant  Territories ;  for  the  Columbia's  sources  are  in 
British  Columbia  ana  in  seven  States  and  Territories,  — 
Oregon,  Washington,  Idaho,  Montana,  Wyoming,  Utah, 
and  Nevada.  Think  what  romantic  canons,  what  vast, 
gloomy  forests,  these  waters  have  passed  through  on 
their  way  from  the  crest  of  the  continent  to  the  ocean  ,- 


UP  AND   DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA   RIVER.  193 

what  numbers  of  speckled  trout  have  darted  through 
them  in  the  mountains ;  what  hordes  of  big  salmon  and 
sturgeon  in  the  Columbia;  and  what  exciting  scenes 
they  have  noted  of  seals  chasing  these  unfortunate  fish  ! 
For  even  as  far  up  the  Columbia  as  this  the  seals  make 
their  excursions.  A  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  the 
ocean,  they  can  be  seen  here  basking  on  a  sand-bank 
projecting  from  an  island  into  the  middle  of  the  river. 
Some  of  them  float  about  on  logs,  and  others  swim  to 
within  thirty  feet  of  the  steamer,  looking,  with  their 
heads  above  the  water,  exactly  like  swimming  dogs. 

About  eleven  o'clock,  as  Mt.  Hood  disappears,  Rooster 
Rock  comes  into  sight,  and  the  scenery  begins  to  re- 
semble that  of  the  Hudson  River  Highlands.  Rooster 
Rock  is  a  large  boulder  which,  from  different  points 
of  view,  looks  like  an  uplifted  thumb,  or  like  a  mam- 
moth seal  with  head  on  high,  just  ready  to  plunge.  It 
stands  on  a  projection  from  the  shore,  which  looks  like 
an  island,  and  it  has  a  few  small  firs  growing  on  its 
bare  sides  that  subsist  apparently  on  the  food  of  air- 
plants.  The  interesting  points  now  begin  to  crowd 
each  other,  and  barely  fifteen  minutes  elapse  before 
another  of  the  famous  sights  of  the  Columbia  comes  in 
view,  —  Cape  Horn,  which,  at  first  sight,  seems  merely  a 
precipitous  rock  projecting  into  the  river ;  but  as  the 
boat  draws  nearer  and  begins  to  round  it,  all  the  pas- 
sengers rush  to  the  left  side  of  the  ship,  and  a  chorus  of 
rapturous  admiration  bursts  from  their  lips.  Cape 
Horn  is  a  vertical  wall  of  bare  rock,  rising  abruptly  out 
of  the  water,  and  standing  on  a  pretty  row  of  grooved 
stones,  resembling  little  pillars  sculptured  in  high  re- 
lief. In  the  centre  of  the  rock  a  miniature  cascade  runs 
down  smoothly  over  a  mossy  bed.  Presently,  as  the 


194  UP   AND  DOWN  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

boat  moves  on  in  close  proximity  to  the  rock,  another  pre- 
cipitous wall,  even  higher  than  the  first,  rises  above  it, 
adorned  with  several  more  miniature  water-falls,  whose 
moss-grown  channels  are  the  only  green  in  the  brown, 
rocky  scene.  Cape  Horn  deserves  its  name,  not  only 
because  it  is  a  promontory  which  the  boat  has  to  round, 
but  because  at  times  the  wind  blows  so  wildly  that  none 
but  steam-vessels  can  pass,  and  canoes  and  sailing-ves- 
sels have  been  detained  there  for  days.  The  Columbia 
River  wind-current,  by  the  way,  is  very  accommodating 
to  sailing-vessels ;  for  it  usually  blows  up  stream,  so  that 
it  is  almost  as  easy  for  them  to  go  up  as  down.  In  the 
future  commercial  development  of  this  region  this  will 
be  a  factor  of  considerable  importance. 

The  Master  Landscape-Gardener  who  planned  the 
Columbia  River  provided  not  only  for  a  gradual  dra- 
matic crescendo  to  a  climax,  but  for  constant  scenic 
variety.  So,  after  the  snow-mountains  and  Rooster 
Rock  and  Cape  Horn,  the  tourist  is  treated  to  the 
sight  of  a  few  picturesque  water-falls.  The  first  of 
them  is  the  Multnomah  Fall,  which  is  sighted  only  a 
few  minutes  after  leaving  Cape  Horn.  At  first  it  is 
somewhat  disappointing,  since  only  the  upper  part  can 
be  seen ;  but  as  the  boat  approaches  nearer,  it  is  revealed 
in  its  true  size,  of  eight  hundred  feet,  in  two  divisions. 
It  is  the  death  plunge  of  a  lively  mountain  stream 
which  has  worn  a  channel  in  the  rock  that  looks  as  if 
a  giant  had  scooped  out  a  wide  groove  with  a  shovel. 
The  trains  of  the  Oregon  Railway  and  Navigation  Com- 
pany pass  very  near  the  falls,  and  always  stop  a  few  min- 
utes to  enable  the  passengers  to  see  them.  But  after  all, 
the  only  way  to  see  them  properly  is  to  visit  them  on  a 
special  picnic  excursion,  one  of  which  leaves  Portland 


UP  AND   DOWN  THE   COLUMBIA  KIVER.  195 

for  this  spot  almost  daily  in  summer.  There  is  a  bridge 
spanning  the  chasm  in  front  of  the  falls  from  which  an 
excellent  view  is  obtained,  and  the  adventurous  climb 
down  and  pass  under  the  falls,  through  a  delightful  fern 
grotto  and  "  cave  of  the  winds."  The  water  in  the  pool 
formed  by  the  fall  is  cool  as  ice  even  in  midsummer. 
The  picnic  parties  generally  visit  another  fine  fall,  the 
Latourelle,  on  the  same  day,  noted  for  the  beautiful 
cave  into  which  it  seems  to  fall,  directly  from  the  blue 
sky,  and  for  the  curious  markings  of  its  rocky  surround- 
ings. This  fall,  however,  though  close  to  the  Columbia, 
is  not  visible  from  the  river ;  but  only  ten  minutes  above 
the  Multnomah  Falls  the  boat  passes  the  Oneonta  Falls, 
less  high  but  more  massive  than  the  Multnomah.  A 
curious  phenomenon  is  here  seen  sometimes  —  a  shadow- 
fall,  reproducing  the  water-fall  with  all  its  movements 
and  its  inverted  water-rockets.  Still  another  fall  is  seen 
above  the  Oneonta,  so  close  to  the  edge  of  the  river  that 
in  high  water  it  probably  plunges  directly  into  the 
Columbia. 

After  this  water-fall  episode  the  highland  mountain 
scenery  again  monopolizes  the  attention ;  for  we  are  now 
in  the  midst  of  the  Cascade  range,  which  is  a  continu- 
ation of  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  California.  That  the 
Columbia  should  have  ever  been  able  to  force  a  passage 
through  this  lofty  chain  is  a  marvel.  But  then  marvels 
abound  in  this  region.  Here,  for  instance,  on  the 
Washington  side,  is  a  monstrous  basaltic  rock,  close  by 
the  river,  completely  isolated,  without  a  trace  of  con- 
nection with  the  neighboring  ridges.  It  is  called  Cathe- 
dral Rock,  is  curiously  marked  and  furrowed  by  wind 
and  weather,  and  covered  in  patches  by  the  irrepressible 
fir-trees,  which  are  larger  than  they  seem  at  their  great 


196  UP  AND  DOWN   THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

elevation.  How  did  this  rock  get  there?  It  looks 
like  a  mammoth  glacier  boulder;  but,  incalculable  as 
is  the  force  of  glaciers,  no  ice-river  could  have  ever 
borne  this  massive  rock  on  its  back.  Perhaps  Mt.  Hood, 
in  a  volcanic  fit,  hurled  it  there.  But  impressive 
as  this  sight  is,  the  passengers  should  not  allow  Cathe- 
dral Rock  to  distract  their  attention  from  the  surround- 
ing mountain  scenery,,  which  is  really  much  more  note- 
worthy than  the  rock  itself.  Near  it,  to  the  right,  is  a 
mountain  about  two  thousand  feet  above  the  river, 
which  is  an  exact  copy  of  Mt.  Hood,  without  its 
snow ;  and  adjoining  it  is  a  unique  mountain  of  about 
the  same  height,  but  with  a  summit  at  least  half  a  mile 
long  and  absolutely  level.  But  it  would  take  volumes 
to  describe  all  these  imposing  mountain  formations. 
Opposite  Castle  Rock,  and  below,  are  miles  of  magnifi- 
cently sculptured  palisades,  compared  with  which  those 
on  the  Hudson  River  are  of  toy-like  dimensions.  They 
are  beautifully  mottled  with  green  shrubs  and  mosses 
and  yellow  lichens,  and  fringed  above  and  below  by 
ribbons  of  young  fir-trees.  And  to  think  that  all  this 
superb  scenery  has  been  known  to  civilized  man  only 
one  century ! 

We  now  approach  the  famous  Cascades  of  the  Colum- 
bia, the  place  where,  according  to  the  Indian  tradition,  a 
natural  bridge  once  existed,  formed  by  the  water  dig- 
ging a  tunnel  for  itself  through  the  mountain.  The 
legend  goes  on  to  relate  how  the  rival  volcanic  mon- 
archs,  Hood  and  Adams,  which  face  each  other  on  oppo- 
site sides  of  the  river,  once  had  a  fight  and  hurled  huge 
rocks  at  each  other,  some  of  which  fell  on  this  arch 
which  spanned  the  Columbia,  and  demolished  it.  The 
fragments,  filling  the  river-bed,  created  the  rapids  which 


CASTI.E    KOfK — COH'MHIA.    KIVER 


UP   AND  DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA   RIVER.  197 

now  obstruct  navigation.  Day  excursions  from  Port- 
land do  not  go  beyond  this  point;  but  tourists  who  wish 
to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  Cascades  themselves,  and  of 
some  of  the  finest  scenery  on  the  river,  must  leave  the 
boat  here  and  take  another  one  about  five  miles  up  the 
river,  for  the  Dalles.  The  Columbia  River  boats  at 
present  depend  for  their  existence  on  freight  more  than 
on  passengers,  and  the  greatest  drawback  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  Columbia  River  trip  is  the  tedious  delay  of 
an  hour  or  two,  necessitated  by  loading  all  the  freight 
on  the  train  which  takes  us  from  the  Lower  Cascades  to 
the  Upper  Cascades,  on  the  Washington  side,  and  then 
again  loading  it  on  the  upper  boat.  However,  the 
mountain  scenery  is  very  fine  at  this  place,  and  the  air 
so  exhilarating  that  the  offence  is  greatly  mitigated 
thereby. 

The  government  has  been  at  work  for  about  twenty 
years  constructing  a  canal  and  locks  for  the  boats  ;  but 
a  million  dollars  are  still  needed  to  complete  the  task, 
and  meanwhile  the  building  of  the  railroad  on  the 
Oregon  side  has  rendered  its  completion  a  matter  of 
less  urgency.  The  little  six-mile  railroad  on  the  Wash- 
ington side,  which  connects  the  two  boats,  is  the  first 
ever  built  in  the  Northwest,  and  is  a  curiosity  not 
only  on  that  account,  but  also  because  it  affords  a 
good  view  of  the  rapids  from  the  car  windows.  The 
fact  that  the  river  is  here  narrowed  to  a  quarter  of  its 
regular  width,  assists  the  rocky  de'bris  in  its  bed  in 
creating  a  dizzy  rush  of  tumultuous,  roaring  waters  and 
foaming  waves  overleaping  each  other.  It  contrasts 
finely  with  the  calm,  majestic  movement  of  the  lower 
Columbia.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that  these  rapids 
are  not  so  grand  or  exciting  as  those  of  the  Niagara 


198  UP   AND  DOWN  THE   COLUMBIA  KIVER. 

or  the  St.  Lawrence;  nor  do  passengers  ever  get  an 
opportunity  to  "  shoot  the  rapids,"  as  on  the  last-named 
river.  Not  that  it  is  impossible  to  do  so.  One  captain 
has  taken  down  several  steamers  and  smashed  only  one 
so  far;  but  the  risk  can  only  be  taken  in  very  high 
water. 

Usually  the  Columbia  is  very  high  in  early  summer, 
especially  when  there  are  a  few  hot  days,  with  much 
snow  in  the  mountains.  The  difference  between  high 
and  low  water  is  forty-two  feet,  and  some  care  has  to  be 
used,  therefore,  in  building  houses  near  the  bank.  In 
1889,  however,  there  was  no  snow  in  the  mountains 
to  melt,  as  there  had  been  no  snow-storms  and  hardly 
any  rain  in  Oregon  during  the  whole  of  the  preceding 
winter;  consequently  the  Columbia  was  lower  than  it 
had  been  for  almost  a  generation ;  not  quite  as  low, 
however,  as  the  rivers  of  Europe  in  1132  and  1313, 
when  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  could  be  crossed  on 
foot  without  wetting  the  shoes.  Fishermen  do  not  like 
the  low  water  in  the  Columbia,  because  in  that  State 
it  is  so  clear  that  the  salmon  succeed  in  avoiding  the 
traps  laid  for  them,  including  the  murderous  "  salmon- 
wheels,"  which  are  turned  by  the  current  and  scoop  in 
the  fish,  young  and  old,  with  the  nets  attached  to  them. 
These  wheels  are  especially  numerous  about  the  Cas- 
cades, and  do  much  to  hasten  the  extermination  of  the 
salmon. 

Before  the  advent  of  civilized  man  on  the  banks  of 
the  Columbia,  the  Cascades  used  to  be  the  great  fishing- 
place  of  the  Indians,  who  congregated  here  in  large 
numbers  to  catch  and  dry  their  winter  supply  of  salmon. 
They  were  a  lazy,  cunning,  treacherous  crew,  who  gave 
the  early  explorers  much  trouble,  and  proved  by  their 


UP  AND   DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA   KIVER.  199 

actions  that  although  fish  may  possibly  be  good  intel- 
lectual or  brain  food,  it  does  not  equally  develop  the 
moral  faculties.  For  these  tribes  used  to  guard  the 
narrowest  parts  of  the  river,  and  levy  toll  on  all  pass- 
ersby,  very  much  like  the  robber-barons  on  the  Rhine. 
But  that  was  in  the  good  old  times,  a  hundred  years 
ago.  At  present  only  a  handful  of  these  Indians  are 
left  to  haunt  these  regions  and  fish  for  their  daily  bread. 
The  salmon-wheel  has  displaced  the  canoe  and  spear, 
and  the  Indian,  who  used  to  be  so  hardy  that  he  went 
about  unclothed  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  has  become 
so  weakened  by  the  clothing,  whiskey,  and  vices  of 
"  civilization  "  that  old  and  young  are  now  dying  out 
rapidly  of  consumption.  In  return  for  all  the  harm  it 
has  done  them,  the  government  allows  the  Indians  the 
privilege  of  fishing  with  spears  for  their  own  sustenance 
during  the  "  closed "  season.  Consequently  it  is  easy 
in  Portland  during  that  season  to  get  salmon  "  caught 
by  Indians,"  or  "in  the  Rogue  River."  It  is  well  to 
have  laws  and  law-abiding  communities. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  features  of  the  Cascades 
is  that  the  upper  steamer  can  be  moored  quite  close  to 
the  head  of  the  rapids,  where  there  are  some  picturesque 
islands.  This  absence  of  a  dangerous  current  is  due  to 
the  great  depth  of  the  river.  The  de'bris  which  causes 
the  rapids  has  blocked  up  the  channel  so  effectually 
that  the  average  depth  of  the  Columbia  is  twenty  feet 
greater  from  the  Cascades  to  the  Dalles  than  below, 
although  the  banks  are  almost  as  widely  apart.  A 
splendid  view  of  a  black  forest  scene  is  obtained  from 
the  deck  of  the  upper  steamer  before  it  leaves  for  the 
Dalles.  It  is  a  sportsman's  paradise,  and  a  brakeman 
assured  me  he  had  seen  two  bears  at  once  on  one  of  the 


200  UP   AND  DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA  EIVER. 

steep  banks.  For  two  hours  after  leaving  the  Cascades 
we  are  still  in  the  midst  of  the  Cascade  Mountains,  and 
the  scenery  is,  if  possible,  more  inspiring  than  below  the 
rapids,  and  the  air  more  exhilarating.  It  is  interesting 
to  note  the  way  in  which  the  railroad  on  the  right  bank 
overcomes  the  rocky  obstacles  in  its  path,  seeking  a 
winding  pathway  around  them  here,  and  time  and 
again  boldly  plunging  into  a  huge  rock  partly  project- 
ing into  the  river,  forming  a  picturesque  tunnel  which 
looks  like  a  natural  cave.  In  some  places  there  is  so 
little  room  for  the  track,  and  the  hill-sides  are  so  steep, 
that,  to  intercept  the  constant  shower  of  stones,  a  broad 
roadway  had  to  be  constructed  a  few  hunded  yards 
above  the  track.  Railroads  usually  mar  natural  scenery, 
but  this  one  only  adds  to  the  variety  and  charm  of  the 
Columbia  trip,  and  Mr.  Ruskin  himself  would  hardly 
venture  to  object  to  it.  The  reason  of  this  is  that  the 
scenery  is  on  such  a  colossal  scale  that  it  cannot  possi- 
bly be  spoiled  by  such  a  tiny  thing  as  a  railroad.  In- 
deed, one  needs  such  a  human  toy  as  a  railway  and  a 
train  of  cars  to  bring  out  by  contrast  the  true  grandeur 
of  this  scenery. 

As  we  approach  the  end  of  the  Highlands,  the  moun- 
tains to  the  left  rise  in  gigantic  terraces,  one,  two,  and 
three  stories  high,  resembling  the  curious  formations 
in  the  Grand  Canon  region  in  Arizona.  The  view  of 
the  highlands  down  the  river  must  not  be  missed,  as  it 
is  finer  even  than  the  view  on  entering.  As  already 
stated,  Mt.  Hood  now  emerges  again,  as  imposing  as 
ever,  and  the  view  of  it  at  the  Dalles  is  as  fine  as  at 
Vancouver  or  Portland.  But  even  without  this  snowy 
monarch  to  follow  us  up  the  river  all  day  long,  this 
part  of  the  Columbia  would  be  one  of  the  most  fasci- 


UP  AND  DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA  RIVER.  201 

nating,  which  does  not  allow  the  attention  to  flag  even 
after  nine  or  ten  hours  of  fatiguing  sight-seeing.  A  few 
miles  below  Dalles  City  is  a  formation  on  the  right 
bank  (going  up)  which  is  perhaps  the  greatest  curiosity 
along  the  whole  river.  It  is  a  wonderfully  illusive 
natural  fortress,  with  battlements  facing  the  river  and 
the  regulation  watch-tower  in  the  middle.  If  political 
exigencies  should  ever  require  a  fortress  on  the  middle 
Columbia,  here  it  might  be  constructed,  one  would 
think,  in  one  day,  by  utilizing  nature's  plans. 

The  river  now  becomes  narrower,  and  is  walled  in  on 
both  sides  by  low  but  finely  sculptured  basalt  palisades, 
beautifully  carved  and  moss-covered  in  some  places. 
A  strong  wind  seems  to  blow  here  almost  constantly, 
and  the  water  is  decked  with  white-caps,  and  as  turbu- 
lent as  the  Rhine  at  the  Loreley  Rock.  We  are  only  a 
few  miles  below  Celilo,  "  the  place  of  the  winds,"  as  the 
Indians  called  it.  There  is  no  swell,  however,  and  the 
boat  runs  smoothly.  Of  course,  ladies  who  become 
"seasick"  in  railway  cars  and  stage  coaches  may  find 
the  Columbia  in  this  place  equally  trying ;  but  for  such 
persons  travelling  was  not  invented.  All,  however, 
should  look  out  for  their  hats  and  parasols.  I  have 
never  passed  up  or  down  this  part  of  the  river  when 
one  or  two  of  these  commodities  were  not  carried  off  by 
the  gusts  of  intoxicated  and  intoxicating  air.  The  pali- 
sades are  marked  by  a  white  line  showing  the  high- 
water  mark  of  1889.  Twelve  feet  above  is  the  high- 
water  mark  of  1888.  Dalles  City  is  not  an  interesting 
place  in  itself,  but  it  is  most  delightfully  situated,  and 
seems  doubly  picturesque  after  a  whole  day's  sail  up 
the  desolate  Columbia,  on  which  evidences  of  human 
habitation  are  hours  apart. 


202  UP   AND   DOWN   THE   COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

Here  ends  the  second  or  "  middle "  portion  of  the 
Columbia.  As  the  word  Dalles  or  "  Swift  Water  "  indi- 
cates, navigation  is  here  again  interrupted  by  rapids. 
Thirteen  miles  above  the  Dalles,  at  Celilo,  it  used  to  be 
resumed  in  former  days,  but  since  the  completion  of  the 
railway  the  boats  of  the  upper  Columbia  have  been  shot 
down  the  various  rapids,  and  are  now  used  in  the  middle 
and  lower  portions  of  the  river.  If  a  day  can  be  spared, 
no  tourist  should  fail  to  visit  the  Great  Dalles,  five 
miles  above  Dalles  City,  where  the  Columbia,  which 
below  and  above  is  almost  a  mile  wide,  is  confined  in  a 
basaltic  channel  only  one  hundred  and  seventy-four  feet 
wide  in  its  narrowest  place.  It  is  a  river  literally 
"  turned  on  edge,"  and  its  depth  at  this  place  has  not 
yet  been  determined,  owing  to  the  rapidity  of  the  cur- 
rent. In  that  portion  of  the  Columbia  lying  between 
Celilo  and  Walla-Walla  there  is  little  interesting  scenery 
along  the  banks,  but  tourists  returning  East  on  the  Cana- 
dian Pacific  Pailroad  once  more  come  across  this  river, 
—  the  real  upper  Columbia,  —  where  it  again  courses 
amidst  snow-mountains,  and  where  it  still  is  navigable 
for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  Truly  the  Columbia 
is  a  sublime  river  which  some  day  will  have  its  mono- 
graph, and  will  inspire  as  much  immortal  poetry  as  the 
Rhine. 


xm. 

OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS. 

FROM    PORTLAND    TO     TACOMA VIEWS    OF    AND     FROM    MT. 

HOOD AMERICAN     SCENERY ADVANTAGES     OF     ISOLA- 
TION   ASCENT     OF     MT.     ST.    HELENS MASCULINE    AND 

FEMININE  PEAKS  —  TACOMA  AND  THE  JUNGFRAU AMER- 
ICAN NAMES  FOR  AMERICAN  MOUNTAINS INDIAN  NAMES 

A    HOP    VALLEY CASCADE    DIVISION    OF    THE    NORTH- 
ERN   PACIFIC    RAILROAD MT.    TACOMA ITS    FOURTEEN 

GLACIERS   AND    FIVE   RIVERS. 

THERE  is  geological  evidence  that  Washington's 
great  inland  sea,  Puget  Sound,  the  Pacific  Mediterra- 
nean, once  extended  as  far  south  as  the  Willamette 
Valley  in  Oregon.  To-day,  Portland  and  Tacoma  are 
about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  apart,  and  the  trip 
may  be  made  either  by  boat  down  the  Columbia  and 
through  the  Straits  of  Juan  de  Fuca  into  the  Sound,  or 
by  the  branch  road  of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad 
overland.  In  either  case,  if  the  view  is  not  impeded  by 
smoke  or  clouds,  a  magnificent  panorama  of  snow-peaks 
is  unfolded  as  the  boat  or  train  moves  along.  Ruskin's 
assertion  that  "mountains  are  the  beginning  and  the  end 
of  all  natural  scenery "  is  strikingly  verified  on  this 
route.  Oregon  without  Mt.  Hood,  Mt.  Jefferson,  and 
the  Three  Sisters,  Washington  without  Mts.  St.  Helens, 
Adams,  and  Tacoma,  would  be  robbed  of  half  their 

203 


204        OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS. 

scenic  charms.  All  of  these  mountains,  except  Jeffer- 
son and  the  Three  Sisters,  are  seen  to  best  advantage  on 
this  trip,  —  Hood,  Adams,  and  St.  Helens  before  reach- 
ing the  Columbia  River  (which  the  train  crosses  on  a 
large  ferry-boat),  and  Tacoma  at  the  other  end. 

Although  these  peaks  resemble  each  other  in  standing 
each  in  selfish,  proud  isolation,  far  from  neighbors,  and 
high  above  the  general  crests  of  the  Cascades,  which 
barely  rise  to  their  snow-line;  and  although  they  are 
all  more  or  less  regularly  conical  in  shape,  broad  at 
the  base  and  gradually  tapering  to  a  point,  there  is 
still  quite  enough  difference  in  the  details  of  their  con- 
formation to  give  them  a  distinct  individuality  of  appear- 
ance. Mt.  Hood,  as  seen  from  Portland,  bears  a  strik- 
ing resemblance  to  Mt.  Hecla  in  Iceland.  The  south 
side,  which  slopes  more  gradually  than  the  north 
side,  is  one  vast  snow-field,  with  hardly  a  dark  spot  of 
bare  rock,  till  late  in  summer.  In  the  forenoon  the 
mountain  often  throws  such  deep  shadows  that  it  seems 
as  if  the  snow  had  melted  from  its  sides ;  but  the 
noon  sunlight  reveals  it  all  in  its  old  place.  During 
a  long  warm  summer  the  snow-line  recedes  consid- 
erably, but  the  upper  half  of  the  mountain  is  crowned 
with  everlasting  snow;  and  it  is  for  this  reason  that 
Hood  seems  larger  and  higher  than  Shasta  in  summer, 
though  it  is  half  a  mile  lower :  for  white  makes  every 
object  seem  larger  or  broader  than  black  or  gray.  Over 
the  peaks  of  "Washington,  Mt.  Hood  has  at  present  this 
advantage,  that  it  alone  is  accessible  by  a  road;  and 
more  than  this,  a  hotel  was  opened  in  1889  above  the 
snow-line,  and  only  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  great 
glacier;  so  that  Portlanders  can  transfer  themselves 
half-way  up  their  favorite  mountain  in  about  eight  hours 
by  rail  and  stage. 


OKEGON   AND   WASHINGTON  SNOW   PEAKS.        205 

Mountains  are  not  only  the  beginning  and  end  of  all 
natural  scenery,  but  they  are  the  scenic  feature  of  which 
one  is  least  apt  to  tire.  A  snow-mountain  is  a  fresh 
object  of  interest  every  clear  morning.  Unlike  a  leop- 
ard, it  constantly  changes  its  spots  under  the  influence 
of  the  sun's  rays ;  and  when  these  dark  patches  have 
become  too  numerous  and  too  large  to  be  ornamental,  a 
snow-storm  comes  along  and  covers  it  with  a  new  white 
magnifying  cloak.  Surely  the  man  who  has  no  love  of 
mountains  in  his  soul  is  fit  for  treason,  stratagem,  and 
crime. 

Mr.  James  Bryce,  who  has  given  us  the  most  just 
and  discriminating  work  on  this  country  ever  written 
by  an  Englishman,  but  who,  as  noted  in  a  previous 
chapter,  speaks  somewhat  disparagingly  of  the  moun- 
tain scenery  of  the  United  States  as  compared  with  that 
of  Europe,  was  nevertheless  compelled  to  pay  his 
tribute  of  admiration  to  "the*  superb  line  of  extinct 
volcanoes,  bearing  snow-fields  and  glaciers,  which  one 
sees  rising  out  of  vast  and  sombre  forests,  from  the 
banks  of  the  Columbia  River  and  the  shores  of  Puget 
Sound."  These  are  encouraging  and  kind  words,  com- 
ing from  an  English  source,  but  they  hardly  do  justice 
to  the  subject.  It  is  not  only  from  the  banks  of  the 
Columbia  and  the  Puget  Sound  region  that  these  giant 
peaks  are  visible,  but  there  is  hardly  a  place  in  Western 
Oregon  or  Washington,  elevated  above  the  level  of  the 
forests,  whence  one  does  not  enjoy  a  superb  view  of 
from  one  to  six  isolated  snow-mountains.  This  isolation 
must  be  again  and  again  emphasized,  not  only  because 
to  it  these  Oregon  and  Washington  mountains  owe 
their  individuality  and  unique  grandeur,  but  also  be- 
cause the  view  from  any  one  of  these  isolated  peaks  is 


206        OREGON  AND   WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS. 

much  more  striking  and  comprehensive  than  a  mountain 
view  in  ranges  where  the  peaks  are  grouped  closely 
together.  Everybody  knows  that  the  Rigi  owes  its 
world-wide  fame  solely  to  the  fact  that  its  isolation 
enables  tourists  to  get  a  comprehensive  view  of  the 
Swiss  Alps  from  its  summit.  Now  our  North  Pacific 
peaks  are  even  more  isolated  than  the  Rigi,  which  has 
the  Pilatus  for  its  immediate  neighbor,  and  they  are, 
moreover,  twice  as  high  as  Rigi.  Imagine,  therefore, 
the  grandeur  of  the  view  from  their  summits.  I  have 
made  the  ascent  of  some  of  the  highest  Swiss  peaks, 
and  of  Mt.  Hood;  and  although  in  the  latter  case  I 
missed  the  bewildering  view  of  closely  grouped  snow- 
peaks  which  meets  the  eye  on  a  Swiss  summit,  there 
was  something  to  compensate  for  this  in  the  superior 
restfulness,  individuality,  and  comprehensiveness  of  a 
Pacific  scene  which  included  only  eight  or  nine  isolated 
snow-peaks,  but  with  an  illimitable  ocean  of  green 
forests  between  them.  All  the  Oregon  and  Washington 
peaks  were  visible,  and  had  the  air  been  perfectly  clear, 
even  Mt.  Shasta,  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  away, 
might  have  been  seen  with  a  telescope.  Add  to  this  the 
mountains  which  encircle  the  Urnpqua  and  Rogue  River 
valleys,  on  the  south,  and  Puget  Sound  with  the  snowy 
Olympic  mountains  on  the  north,  and  by  way  of  con- 
trast, the  Columbia  River  and  Willamette  valleys  on  the 
west,  and  th6  vast  plains  of  Eastern  Oregon  on  the 
opposite  side,  and  you  get  a  faint  idea  of  the  grandeur 
of  the  view  from  the  summit  of  Mt.  Hood,  provided 
there  is  no  smoke  or  haze  in  the  air. 

I  cannot  stop  to  describe  all  the  peaks  in  Oregon  and 
Washington,  but  a  few  remarks  on  the  two  best  known 
Washington  peaks  —  St.  Helens  and  Tacoma — may 


OKEGON   AND   WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS.        207 

not  be  unwelcome  while  our  train  is  speeding  on  towards 
Puget  Sound,  through  a  region  which,  except  for  these 
glimpses  of  superb  mountains,  would  be  a  monotonous 
ride  across  a  dreary,  desolate  forest  wilderness. 

Mt.  St.  Helens  is  so  prominent  an  object  as  seen 
from  the  streets  of  Portland,  that  tourists  are  apt  to 
fancy  that  it  must  be  an  Oregon  mountain,  like  Hood. 
But  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  Columbia  River, 
which  forms  the  boundary  between  Oregon  and  Wash- 
ington, is  only  twelve  miles  distant  from  Portland,  and 
that  East  Portland  is  practically  situated  on  a  peninsula 
formed  by  the  approaching  Willamette  and  Columbia 
rivers.  Being  farther  north  than  Mt.  Hood,  Mt.  St. 
Helens  retains  somewhat  more  of  its  snowy  whiteness 
in  summer ;  but  there  is  a  place  near  the  summit  which 
is  always  kept  bare  by  its  internal  volcanic  heat.  The 
slopes  of  St.  Helens  are  steeper  than  those  of  Hood, 
and  its  conical  shape  is  beautifully  symmetrical  and 
smoothly  rounded,  as  compared  with  the  more  rugged 
Hood,  which  gives  it  a  feminine  appearance.  The 
Indians  have  a  legend  that  when  St.  Helens,  Hood,  and 
Adams  were  created,  they  were  big  women  who  had 
one  husband  in  common.  The  result  was  jealousy,  and 
a  fight  in  which  St.  Helens  whipped  Hood  and  the 
other  mountains,  and  made  slaves  of  them.  In  this 
legend  the  Indians  did  not,  I  think,  show  their  usual 
poetic  imagination.  The  lovely,  rounded,  and  regular 
appearance  of  St.  Helens  should  have  suggested  a  legend 
in  which  this  mountain  was  made  the  wife  of  the  more 
irregular,  muscular,  and  sinewy  Hood. 

St.  Helens,  although  its  slopes  are  steeper  than  those 
of  Hood,  is  considered  quite  as  easy  of  ascent.  But  the 
attempt  is  very  rarely  made  at  present,  because  the 


208        OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON   SNOW   PEAKS. 

mountain  is  so  inaccessible,  —  Woodland,  the  nearest 
place  where  supplies  can  be  obtained,  being  nearly  fifty 
miles  away,  and  the  path  very  indistinct.  Two  years 
ago  the  Oregon  Alpine  Club  decided  to  put  a  copper 
box  and  a  record  book  on  the  summit  of  every  snow- 
peak  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  In  pursuance  of  this  object, 
a  party  last  summer  made  an  ascent  of  Mt.  St.  Helens, 
of  which  Mr.  W.  G.  Steele  wrote  an  interesting  account 
in  the  Oregonian  (July  27,  1889).  About  twelve  miles 
from  the  mountain  they  came  across  Trout  Lake,  in 
which  two  of  the  party  caught  one  hundred  and  fifty 
pounds  of  trout  in  a  day.  The  base  of  the  mountain 
has  an  elevation  of  4625  feet,  and  from  this  point  St. 
Helens  seems  higher  than  Hood,  because  it  rises  more 
rapidly  from  the  surrounding  country.  The  main  sum- 
mit was  found  to  be  11,150  feet  high.  "  Judging  the 
mountain  as  it  appears  from  Portland,"  Mr.  Steele  says, 
"  we  had  been  led  to  suppose  that  the  summit  would 
be  almost  a  perfect  circle.  Instead  of  that,  however, 
it  is  slightly  inclined  to  a  square,  and  probably  con- 
tains half  a  section  of  land,  or  rather  snow."  Magnifi- 
cent rugged  glaciers  were  found  near  the  summit,  and 
on  the  way  up  the  party  made  the  interesting  discovery 
that  beneath  the  confused  masses  of  scoria  which  made 
up  the  mountain  side,  an  immense  glacier  was  concealed, 
"  which  day  after  day  moves  downward  with  its  marvel- 
lous load,  that  is  being  ground  into  powder  or  hurled 
to  the  plain  below." 

One  of"  the  most  interesting  facts  regarding  St.  Helens 
is  that  it  has  given  more  recent  evidence  of  its  volcanic 
origin  than  any  other  of  the  Pacific  peaks ;  namely,  as 
late  as  1853  and  1854,  if  Winthrop  and  Swan  may  be 
credited.  Corroborative  evidence  is  furnished  by  the 


OREGON  AND   WASHINGTON   SNOW   PEAKS.        209 

Indian  name  of  the  mountain,  Lou-wala-clough,  which 
means,  "  the  Smoking  Mountain." 

About  thirty  miles  south  of  the  city  of  Tacoma, 
Mt.  Tacoma  suddenly  emerges  into  sight  from  behind 
the  trees  which  had  previously  hidden  it  from  the  pas- 
sengers on  the  Northern  Pacific  train,  and  soon  it  stands 
before  them  in  life  size,  and  follows  them  up  to  the 
Sound,  with  that  peculiar  ease  which  mountains  that 
are  supposed  to  be  firmly  rooted  in  the  soil  have  in 
keeping  up  with  an  express  train,  —  frisking  around  it, 
now  on  one  side,  now  on  another,  like  a  gambolling  white 
elephant.  From  this  point  of  view  the  mountain  bears 
some  resemblance  to  the  Jungfrau;  but  whereas  that 
beautiful  Swiss  peak  weakens  the  impression  of  her 
grandeur  and  power  by  putting  her  arms  for  support 
on  the  neighboring  Monch  and  Ebenefluh,  almost  equal 
to  her  in  height,  Tacoma  stands  in  solitary  grandeur, 
appearing  more  sublimely  isolated  even  than  Hood  or 
Shasta ;  for  the  range  on  which  it  rises  seems  merely  a 
hill.  And  whereas  the  tourist  who  sees  the  Jungfrau 
at  Miirren,  or  the  Matterhorn  at  Zermatt,  or  Mont  Blanc 
at  Chamounix,  is  already  five  or  six  thousand  feet  high, 
and  therefore  gazes  at  a  mountain  whose  summit  is  only 
eight  or  nine  thousand  feet  above  him,  Tacoma,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  seen  from  the  very  level  of  the  sea,  and 
therefore  rears  the  whole  of  its  three  miles  of  sloping 
snow-fields  and  glaciers  before  the  awed  spectator.  Its 
exact  height  is  14,444  feet,  or  just  four  feet  higher  than 
Shasta.  But  thanks  to  its  magnifying  snow-mantle, 
which  never  disappears,  and  the  fact  that  it  is  seen  from 
ocean  level,  it  seems  much  higher  and  grander  than 
California's  finest  peak.  Tacoma,  indeed,  is  the  king  of 
all  our  mountains,  from  the  tourist's  and  artist's  point 


210        OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS. 

of  view ;  for  although  Fairweather  and  St.  Elias  in 
Alaska  are  higher  still,  they  are  beyond  the  range  of 
excursion  steamers,  and  are,  moreover,  generally  buried 
behind  clouds ;  while  Mt.  Whitney  in  Central  Califor- 
nia is  almost  equally  inaccessible  in  the  Sierra  wilder- 
ness, and  in  beauty  of  outlines  does  not  bear  comparison 
with  Tacoma  for  a  moment,  lacking  as  it  does  its  fine 
conical  shape  and  the  advantage  of  isolation. 

Such  being  the  case,  it  is  surely  the  height  of  absurd- 
ity to  continue  naming  the  grandest  mountain  in  the 
United  States  after  an  obscure  English  lord.  When 
Vancouver  first  discovered  all  these  North  Pacific  moun- 
tains, in  1792,  he  had  a  perfect  right  to  name  them  after 
anybody  he  pleased ;  but  Washington  now  happens  to 
belong  to  the  United  States,  and  every  American  with  a 
spark  of  patriotic  feeling  in  his  constitution  must  feel 
that  Anglo-mania  could  not  show  a  more  humiliating  form 
than  in  the  disposition  still  shown  by  many  persons  on 
the  Pacific  Coast,  to  use  Lord  Rainier's  name  in  desig- 
nating the  king  of  all  our  mountains.  The  same  objec- 
tion might  be  urged  against  Hood,  which  bears  the 
name  of  Lord  Hood;  but  in  this  case  it  happens  that 
the  name  is  appropriate,  for  this  peak  is  hood-shaped, 
and  the  uninformed  always  fancy  that  to  this  fact  it 
owes  its  name ;  so  it  may  be  allowed  to  stand.  Louwala, 
too,  would  be  a  more  musical  and  acceptable  name  than 
St.  Helens,  and  there  is  no  reason  on  earth  why  a  moun- 
tain in  Washington  should  bear  the  name  of  a  British 
ambassador  in  Madrid.  But  in  this  case  also  the  matter 
may  be  overlooked,  since  the  name  St.  Helens,  like  the 
shape  of  the  mountain  itself,  has  a  vague  feminine  sug- 
gestiveness.  But  for  Rainier  there  is  no  excuse  what- 
ever, as  we  have  an  infinitely  more  euphonious  name  for 


OREGON   AND   WASHINGTON  SNOW  PEAKS.        211 

it  in  Tacoma,  which,  moreover,  designates  the  mountain's 
character  exactly;  for  in  the  Indian  dialect  it  means 
"the  mountain."  The  fact  that  the  Northern  Pacific 
Railroad,  which  really  "created"  the  State  of  Washing- 
ton, by  first  developing  its  resources,  always  has  Mt. 
Tacoma  on  its  maps,  has  already  done  much  to  popular- 
ize this  musical  name,  and  to  oust  the  memory  of  the 
English  lord;  and  if  all  tourists  of  taste  will  unite 
in  tabooing  Rainier,  they  will  soon  succeed  in  effacing 
that  name  from  all  the  maps.  Tacoma  cannot  fail  to 
triumph  in  the  long  run,  just  as  the  attempt  made  some 
time  ago  to  name  Lake  Tahoe  after  a  governor  of  Cali- 
fornia failed,  the  original  Indian  name  being  instinc- 
tively and  unanimously  preferred  by  tourists  to  such  an 
ugly  word  as  Bigler.  Even  the  Seattle  people  will  find 
that  they  will  gain  more  in  the  estimation  of  other 
Americans  if  they  will  allow  a  sentiment  of  national 
patriotism  to  override  the  local  pride  and  jealousy  of  a 
neighboring  town  which  now  make  them  act  in  a  very 
silly  manner  when  you  use  the  expression  "Mount 
Tacoma." 

To  those  Pacific  Coast  people  who  stubbornly  cling  to 
such  words  as  Rainier  and  Bigler,  I  commend  chapter 
twenty-three  of  Washington  Irving's  "Astoria,"  where 
he  laments  "  the  stupid,  commonplace,  and  often  ribald 
names  entailed  upon  the  rivers  and  other  features  of  the 
Great  West  by  traders  and  settlers.  .  .  .  Indeed,  it  is 
to  be  wished  that  the  whole  of  our  country  could  be 
rescued  as  much  as  possible  from  the  wretched  nomen- 
clature inflicted  upon  it  by  ignorant  and  vulgar  minds ; 
and  this  might  be  done,  in  a  great  degree,  by  restoring 
the  Indian  names,"  which  are  "  in  general  more  sonorous 
and  musical." 


212        OREGON  AND   WASHINGTON   SNOW  PEAKS. 

In  insisting  so  strongly  that  the  monarch  of  American 
mountains  should  have  an  American  name,  and  not  be 
called  after  an  obscure  English  lord,  I  intend  no  offence 
to  English  sentiment,  but  merely  wish  to  emphasize  a 
patriotic  right.  No  Englishman  would  fail  to  express 
his  disgust  and  indignation  if  an  attempt  were  made  to 
name  the  grandest  scenic  feature  in  one  of  the  British 
colonies  after  an  American  president  or  statesman. 
Finally,  it  must  be  remembered  that  along  the  line  of 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad  in  British  Columbia  there 
are  scores  of  superb  peaks  on  which  the  English  may 
without  protest  bestow  the  names  of  earls,  lords,  sirs, 
esquires,  and  ambassadors,  if  they  choose.  In  my  opin- 
ion, however,  there  is  something  equally  ludicrous  and 
presumptuous  in  naming  a  mountain  after  a  puny  mor- 
tal, however  great  he  may  seem  to  his  generation.  The 
mountainous  map  of  the  Pacific  Coast  is  marred  by  too 
many  of  these  blunders.  To  realize  their  full  signifi- 
cance, read  TourgeniefFs  wonderful  dialogue  between 
the  Jungfrau  and  the  Finsteraarhorn,  in  his  "Prose 
Poems."  The  futility  of  man's  pretensions  to  immor- 
tality has  never  been  more  vividly  portrayed  than  in  this 
dialogue,  resumed  at  intervals  of  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  years,  and  commenting  on  the  intervening  changes, 
till  finally  the  whole  earth  is  covered  with  a  sea  of  ice, 
amid  which  the  Jungfrau  and  Finsteraarhorn  still  rear 
their  now  silent  heads  unchanged. 

Thanks  to  its  great  height  and  complete  isolation, 
Mt.  Tacoma  is  visible  as  far  as  Portland  to  the  south, 
one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  in  an  air-line,  and  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  the  east.  One  of  the  most 
perfect  views  of  it  is  obtained  from  the  piazza  of  the 
large  Tacoma  Hotel.  Though  it  is  over  forty  miles 


OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON  SNOW  PEAKS.       213 

away,  it  seems  so  near,  when  the  air  is  clear,  that  tour- 
ists are  apt  to  fancy  they  could  stroll  to  its  base  after 
dinner.  To  see  it  at  its  best,  however,  Mt.  Tacoma 
should  be  viewed  from  the  deck  of  a  Sound  steamer,  or, 
better  still,  from  the  car  windows  on  the  Cascade  Divis- 
ion of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad.  Tourists  who 
do  not  use  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  either  going 
or  returning,  should  by  no  means  fail  to  make  an  excur- 
sion on  this  Cascade  Branch,  in  order  to  get  a  view 
of  Mt.  Tacoma  from  within  fifteen  miles  of  its  base. 
To  do  this  it  is  not  necessary  to  go  as  far  as  Pasco 
Junction,  in  Eastern  Washington,  where  the  cactus 
blooms  in  the  sandy  plains  in  June,  as  in  Arizona  and 
Southern  California  ;  but  one  can  get  off  at  Clealum  or 
thereabouts,  and  return  to  Tacoma  next  day.  Much  of 
the  land  through  which  the  Cascade  Branch  passes  is 
disfigured  by  dead  black  trees  and  stumps.  Other  por- 
tions are  in  full  cultivation,  and  the  crop  most  favored 
appears  to  be  hops,  especially  in  the  Puyallup  Valley, 
where  these  vines  attain  a  most  luxuriant  and  prolific 
growth.  Indians  are  still  employed  in  considerable 
numbers  during  the  hop-picking  season,  when  they  come 
in  canoes  from  all  parts  of  the  coast.  Oddly  enough, 
this  valley  is  the  most  pronounced  "  temperance  "  region 
in  the  Northwest,  and  one  of  the  largest  hop-growers 
will  not,  under  any  circumstances,  allow  a  saloon  to  be 
opened  within  his  extensive  domain ;  though  he  seems 
to  see  nothing  sinful  or  inconsistent  in  accumulating 
wealth  by  selling  his  hops  to  wicked  brewers. 

This  hop  valley  lies  between  Tacoma  and  the  Cascade 
mountains,  and  —  aside  from  the  picturesque  hop-vines 
and  a  mountain  stream  with  waters  so  clear  that  the 
passengers  can  see  the  fish  in  it  from  the  car  windows, 


214        OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON   SNOW   PEAKS. 

for  half  an  hour,  as  the  train  speeds  along — it  is  in 
these  mountains  that  the  scenic  attractions  centre. 
Unfortunately,  one  of  the  most  fascinating  and  exciting 
features  of  this  route  —  the  Switchback  —  has  ceased 
to  exist.  This  was  a  part  of  the  road  where  the  train 
ascended  the  mountain  range  by  a  series  of  zigzag 
movements,  like  a  sailing-vessel  tacking  at  sea.  There 
was  one  monstrous  one-hundred-and-ten-ton  engine  in 
front  of  the  train,  and  another  one  behind,  and  when 
the  train  had  reached  a  certain  point,  it  was  switched 
off  and  started  ahead  in  the  opposite  direction.  This 
was  done  repeatedly,  until  a  place  was  reached  where 
as  many  as  six  parallel  tracks  could  be  seen,  each  a  few 
hundred  yards  higher  than  its  predecessor.  Several 
times  the  train  ran  over  trestle-works  of  a  most  giddy 
height,  and  looking  so  frail  as  to  make  timid  passengers 
wish  they  were  back  in  Tacoma.  But  this  "  elevated  " 
railway  was  merely  a  temporary  arrangement,  con-- 
structed  at  a  cost  of  six  hundred  thousand  dollars,  in 
order  that  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  might  not  be 
dependent  on  the  tender  mercies  of  the  Oregon  Railway 
and  Navigation  Company  for  a  Pacific  Coast  terminus, 
pending  the  completion  of  the  Stampede  Tunnel,  which 
has  now  taken  the  place  of  the  Switchback. 

The  chief  attraction  of  the  Cascade  route  is  of  course 
Mt.  Tacoma,  which  can  be  seen  from  many  points  of 
view,  as  the  train  sweeps  around  it  in  a  wide  curve, 
somewhat  similar  to  the  way  in  which  Mt.  Shasta  is 
circumvented.  When  Tacoma  was  ascended  for  the  first 
time,  about  thirty  years  ago,  by  Lieutenants  Kautz  and 
Slaughter,  the  party  required  nine  days  from  Steilacoom 
on  Puget  Sound  and  back.  Since  the  completion  of  the 
railway,  however,  a  trail  has  been  made  from  the  nearest 


OREGON   AND   WASHINGTON   SNOW   PEAKS.        215 

point  on  the  road,  from  which  tourists  can  ascend  the 
mountain  on  horseback  to  a  height  of  about  two  miles, 
where  the  Puyallup  and  Carbon  glaciers  may  be  seen 
to  advantage.  The  remaining  mile  offers  difficulties 
and  dangers  sufficient  to  daunt  any  but  the  bravest  and 
most  expert  Alpine  climbers.  Perhaps  the  summit  of 
Tacoma  will  always  remain  as  inaccessible  to  ordinary 
tourists  as  the  Matterhorn ;  but  so  few  parties  have  as 
yet  made  the  ascent  that  a  route  may  yet  be  found,  by 
which  the  summit  will  be  made  as  easy  of  access  as  that 
of  Mt.  Hood.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  even 
from  the  lower  point  now  accessible  to  all,  Tacoma 
is  nearly  as  high  as  Hood ;  and  those  who  are  averse  to 
endangering  their  life  for  the  sake  of  seeing  the  craters 
at  the  summit,  two  hundred  or  three  hundred  yards  in 
diameter,  now  filled  with  snow,  but  still  having  enough 
heat  and  sulphur  vapor  in  their  environs  to  save  a  party 
caught  in  a  storm  from  freezing  (see  Hazard  Stcvens's 
article  in  Atlantic  Monthly,  November,  1876),  will  thus 
find  infinite  enjoyment  in  viewing  the  extensive  scene, 
and  in  exploring  the  glaciers  and  the  grand  canons  lead- 
ing from  them,  with  the  rivers  of  ice-water  and  their  in- 
numerable rapids,  cascades,  and  falls.  There  are  fourteen 
living  glaciers  on  the  sides  of  Tacoma.  At  the  latitude 
of  this  mountain  the  vast  snow-fields  cannot  disappear 
airwards  by  evaporation,  and  therefore  they  follow  the 
law  of  gravitation  downwards  as  glaciers^  till  the  melt- 
ing-line is  reached,  which  becomes  the  birthplace  of 
mighty  rivers.  Of  these  solidified  snow-fields,  or  ice- 
rivers,  some  are  from  two  to  four  miles  wide,  and  the 
Nesqually,  Wenass,  and  White  River  glaciers  are  respec- 
tively four,  five,  and  ten  miles  long.  Of  the  rivers 
which  find  their  sources  in  Tacoma's  glaciers,  five  are 


216       OREGON  AND  WASHINGTON  SNOW  PEAKS. 

from  seventy  to  a  hundred  miles  long,  and  three  —  the 
White,  Puyallup,  and  Cowlitz  —  are  navigable. 

Surely  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  when  tourists 
once  begin  to  realize  the  grandeur  and  the  still  largely 
unexplored  attractions  of  the  mountain  region  of  our 
Northwest,  Switzerland  will  be  neglected  for  a  time,  and 
the  cities  of  Tacoma  and  Portland  will  become  the 
Interlaken  and  the  Zermatt  of  America. 


XIV. 
THE   AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

A  STRANGE   FACT  —  HISTORY  OF   TACOMA  —  ADVANTAGES    OF 

ITS  SITUATION NAVIGATION FORESTS   AND   SAW-MILLS 

SPLENDORS    AND    DISADVANTAGES    OF    FOREST    FIRES  — 

COAL-FIELDS      OF      WASHINGTON SCENIC     FEATURES     OF 

PUGET    SOUND OLTMPIA SEATTLE    SINCE    THE    FIRE 

THE   OLYMPIC   MOUNTAINS  —  PORT   TOWNSEND. 

STUDENTS  of  American  history,  a  few  generations 
hence,  will  find  it  difficult  to  believe  that  the  magnif- 
icent Puget  Sound  region  in  Washington,  which  offers 
such  unequalled  advantages  for  navigation,  commerce, 
lumbering,  agriculture,  and  mining,  should  have  remained 
almost  entirely  undeveloped  till  the  last  quarter  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  almost  a  hundred  years  after  the 
exploration  of  this  fine  and  tortuous  inland  sea  by  Van- 
couver. Indeed,  it  seems  probable  that  the  end  of  this 
century  might  have  been  reached  without  a  general 
appreciation  of  the  manifold  attractions  of  Western  and 
Eastern  Washington  had  it  not  been  for  the  building  of 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  which  has  been  practically 
the  creator  of  this  State.  In  the  few  years  since  its 
completion  it  has  been  demonstrated  that  if  the  United 
States  authorities  had  carried  out  the  intention  held  at 
one  time  of  ceding  this  territory  to  England,  as  an 
expression  of  good  will,  they  would  have  given  away  a 

217 


218  THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

State  as  rich  in  natural  resources  as  New  York  or  Penn- 
sylvania, either  of  which  it  exceeds  in  dimensions  by 
one-half. 

No  spot  in  Washington  has  been  so  literally  created  by 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad  as  "  the  City  of  Destiny," 
Tacoma;  for  when  the  decision  was  announced  in  1873 
of  making  this  spot  the  terminus  of  the  new  transconti- 
nental railroad,  the  old  village  of  Tacoma  had  only 
three  hundred  inhabitants,  and  on  the  site  of  New 
Tacoma  there  was  nothing  but  a  dilapidated  log  cabin. 
In  1886  the  post-office  business  at  Tacoma  amounted 
to  $9,040,  and  in  1889  to  132,446 ;  and  it  is  assumed 
that  these  dollars  in  each  case  represent  an  equal  num- 
ber of  inhabitants. 

The  selection  of  Tacoma  seems  to  have  been  deter- 
mined by  considerations  similar  to  those  which  made 
Portland  the  "  City  of  Destiny  "  in  Oregon.  As  Portland 
was  built  at  the  highest  point  on  the  Willamette  River 
where  ocean  vessels  can  go  with  ease  and  safety,  so 
Tacoma  has  been  located  at  the  most  convenient  south- 
ern branch  of  Puget  Sound  which  ocean  vessels  can 
reach  at  all  times,  independent  of  the  tide.  The  State 
capital  lies  further  south  still,  it  is  true,  but  its  arm  of 
the  Sound  is  so  much  affected  by  the  tide  that  a  wharf 
had  to  be  built  projecting  almost  a  mile  into  the  bay. 
The  Tacoma  harbor,  on  the  other  hand,  has  forty  to 
seventy-five  fathoms  of  water,  and  shippers  are  inclined 
to  growl  that  it  is  too  deep,  which  makes  anchoring  at 
some  places  inconvenient.  It  is  on  this  fine  harbor,  as 
much  as  on  the  fact  of  its  being  the  terminus  of  the 
Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  that  Tacoma  bases  its  hope  of 
taking  a  large  part  of  the  exceedingly  profitable  Oriental 
trade  from  the  British,  and  also  from  the  San  Francis- 


THE   AMERICAN   MEDITERRANEAN.  219 

cans.  Tacoma  is  about  three  hundred  miles  nearer  to 
Canton  than  San  Francisco,  which  makes  a  day's  differ- 
ence in  its  favor  each  way.  Among  the  chief  articles 
imported  by  the  Asiatics  in  return  for  their  teas  and 
silks,  are  flour,  canned  goods,  and  lumber,  all  of  which, 
and  especially  the  last,  Tacoma  is  eminently  qualified  to 
provide.  Seventeen  years  ago  its  site  was  a  dense  forest, 
and  dense  forests  still  cover  the  greater  part  of  the  Puget 
Sound  region  and  Western  Washington,  and  will  for 
centuries  to  come,  even  at  the  present  rate  of  wholesale 
destruction.  It  has  been  estimated  that  the  forest 
district  of  the  State  includes  175,000,000,000  feet  of 
lumber. 

What  threatens  to  exterminate  the  superb  forests 
of  Washington  and  Oregon  is  not  so  much  the  lumber- 
man's axe  as  the  forest  fires,  which,  instead  of  dimin- 
ishing year  by  year,  seem  to  increase  in  frequency  and 
extent.  They  are  caused  by  camp-fires  left  burning  by 
careless  hunters  or  Indians,  or  by  sparks  from  railway 
engines.  But  even  when  there  are  no  extensive  fires 
originating  in  this  way,  the  summer  air  in  Washington 
and  Oregon  is  odorous,  pungent  to  the  eyes,  and  opaque 
from  the  innumerable  clearings,  or  places  where  farmers 
burn  down  their  dense  timber  to  secure  land  for  the 
plough.  A  volcano  in  full  activity  could  hardly  be  a 
more  brilliant  and  thrilling  sight  than  the  dazzling 
nocturnal  splendor  of  these  fires  — the  united  brilliancy 
of  scores  or  hundreds  of  blazing  fir-trees,  some  lying  pros- 
trate in  confused  groups,  others,  several  hundred  feet 
high,  standing  in  solemn  array,  like  condemned  crim- 
inals, until  the  flames  rush  up  to  their  tops  and  bring 
them  down  too,  or  else  leave  them  standing  as  blackened, 
ghastly  trunks.  These  transitory  fireworks,  however, 


220  THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

do  not  compensate  settlers  in  the  long  run  for  the  loss 
of  so  much  valuable  timber,  or  tourists  for  missing 
sight  of  the  snow-mountains.  I  have  often  seen  the 
sun  here  day  after  day  looking  like  a  full  red  moon,  and 
the  air  is  for  weeks  so  densely  filled  with  smoke  that 
the  eyes  become  inflamed.  Indeed,  unless  there  has 
been  a  shower,  tourists  have  little  chance  of  seeing 
Mts.  Hood  or  Tacoma  in  July  or  August.  Owing 
to  Tacoma's  destiny  of  becoming  the  American  Inter- 
laken,  this  is  a  matter  of  some  importance ;  but  little 
can  be  done  to  remedy  the  evil  until  the  national  gov- 
ernment can  be  induced  to  spend  some  of  the  surplus 
in  the  treasury  on  measures  for  the  protection  of  our 
Northern  forests,  —  the  envy  of  the  whole  civilized  world. 

The  lumber  business  is  still  the  most  important  in- 
dustry in  Tacoma,  and  will  probably  long  remain  so. 
In  1873  there  was  one  saw-mill  on  the  premises,  and 
now  there  are  seventeen,  employing  nearly  fifteen  hun- 
dred men,  and  with  a  combined  capacity  for  turning  out 
more  than  a  million  and  a  quarter  feet  a  day.  It  is 
interesting  to  see  these  mills  at  work.  There  is  one  at 
which  the  steamers  on  the  way  to  Olympia  stop  to  take  in 
water,  so  that  passengers  have  time  to  watch  the  chain 
which,  like  a  moving  cable,  carries  down  the  debris 
of  the  timber  in  a  flume-like  trough,  high  in  the  air, 
and  throws  it  down  on  a  pile  which  is  kept  burning 
constantly.  One  cannot  suppress  the  thought  what  a 
boon  the  fuel  thus  wasted  would  be  to  the  poor  in  our 
Eastern  cities.  Vessels  are  always  seen  loading  to  carry 
the  available  part  of  the  timber  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 

But  although  lumber  is  the  staple  of  Tacoma's  trade, 
the  city's  prosperous  growth  would  hardly  be  arrested 
by  a  decline  in  this  business ;  for  its  importance  as  a 


THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN.  221 

centre  for  the  exportation  of  wheat  and  coal  will  grow 
much  more  rapidly  than  the  forests  diminish.  As  the 
timber  is  cleared  away,  the  farmers  can  take  possession 
of  the  soil,  which  yields  heavy  crops  of  the  best  wheat. 
Puget  Sound  extends  from  north  to  south  about  one 
hundred  and  twenty  miles,  and  has  a  shore-line  of 
almost  sixteen  hundred  miles,  much  of  which  is  tide 
land ;  and  on  these  tide  lands  grain  yields  the  fabulous 
amount  of  over  a  hundred  bushels  to  the  acre.  Eastern 
Washington,  also,  which  differs  so  widely  in  soil  and 
climate  from  the  western  half  of  the  State,  has  been 
found  excellently  adapted  for  grain  and  fruit  raising, 
with  the  help  of  irrigation,  preparations  for  the  use  of 
which  are  now  being  made  on  a  vast  scale.  All  these 
products  will  of  course  seek  a  market  via  the  Puget 
Sound  cities. 

I  saw  Tacoma  in  1887,  and  again  in  1889  and  1890, 
and  the  growth  of  the  city  in  this  short  time  was  such 
that  in  both  cases  I  hardly  recognized  the  place.  It 
seemed  as  if  some  fairy  had  visited  the  town  and 
changed  every  black  stump  into  a  four-story  brick  build- 
ing by  touching  it  with  her  wand.  The  cause  of  this 
sudden  "spurt "  was  the  completion  of  the  Cascade  Divis- 
ion of  the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  and  the  Stampede 
Tunnel,  which  opened  up  the  vast  coal-fields  along  this 
road,  and  made  the  Pacific  Coast  cities  independent  of 
Pennsylvania  coal.  The  export  of  coal  to  California 
ports  is  already  second  in  importance  to  Tacoma's  lum- 
ber trade,  and  the  business  is  as  yet  in  its  infancy. 
Bituminous  or  soft  coal  is  at  present  chiefly  mined,  but 
it  is  said  that  "near  the  foot  of  Mt.  Tacoma  is  the 
best  anthracite  mine  in  the  world,  the  product  running 
ninety-eight  per  cent  of  fixed  carbon,"  the  smallest  vein 


222  THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

being  four  feet  through.  "  This  will  be  opened  up  very 
shortly,  as  soon  as  a  railway  can  be  built  through  to  tap 
it."  »Such  a  railway  would  also  prove  a  great  boon  to 
tourists.  The  words  just  quoted  are  from  the  Orego- 
nian,  which  by  the  way  is  still  read  by  almost  as  many 
Washingtonians  as  Oregonians,  —  a  reminiscence  of  the 
time  when  Portland  was  the  metropolis  of  both  the 
States  which  formed  old  Oregon. 

As  this  chapter  is  intended  to  be  devoted  to  the  scenic 
rather  than  the  commercial  aspects  of  Puget  Sound,  I 
cannot  give  any  more  space  to  the  latter.  It  is  worthy 
of  note  that  the  Tacomans,  however  enthusiastic  they 
may  be  in  regard  to  their  business  prospects,  never  fail 
to  appreciate  also  the  aesthetic  and  climatic  advantages 
of  their  location.  Excessive  summer  heat  is  as  unknown 
as  excessive  winter  cold,  the  thermometer  having  been 
known  to  keep  within  the  limits  of  30°  and  90°  for  six 
successive  years ;  and  though  it  rains  a  good  deal  in  win- 
ter, the  rain  is  not  depressing  through  a  sultry  atmos- 
pheric condition.  As  for  the  site  of  Tacoma,  it  has  the 
double  advantage  of  being  not  only  picturesque  in  itself, 
as  seen  from  the  bay,  but  of  affording  at  the  same  time 
a  superb  bay  and  mountain  view  from  the  residences. 
The  city  is  built  on  sloping  ground  and  terraces  rising 
one  behind  the  other ;  and  as  in  San  Francisco,  the  busi- 
ness streets  are  on  level  ground,  and  the  residence 
streets  run  up  hill ;  but  we  read  that  "  the  engineer 
declared  when  he  entered  upon  his  work  that  the  streets 
should  have  such  easy  grades  that  a  horse  with  buggy 
and  driver  might  go  from  one  point  to  another  in  a 
lively  trot,  and  he  carried  his  point."  The  greater  part 
of  the  city  having  been  at  first  in  the  hands  of  the 
Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  the  directors  were  able  to  lay 


THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN.  223 

out  the  town  on  principles  of  good  taste,  which  was  done 
by  putting  the  matter  in  the  hands  of  an  expert  land- 
scape gardener.  The  streets  in  consequence  are  all  from 
eighty  to  one  hundred  feet  wide,  and  nearly  seventeen 
hundred  acres  of  land  have  been  put  aside  for  parks. 
The  future  hundreds  of  thousands  of  Tacoma  will  ever 
be  grateful  for  these  sanitary  and  far-seeing  provisions. 
For,  however  salubrious  the  climate  may  be,  a  large  city 
always  needs  breathing-spaces  and  wide  streets.  Until 
recently  Tacoma  was  behind  Seattle  in  the  matter  of 
street-car  facilities,  but  within  a  year  cable  cars  have 
been  built,  and  almost  twenty  miles  of  electric  street 
railroads,  which  have  solved  the  problem  of  going  up 
hill  at  a  grade  of  fourteen  feet  to  one  hundred,  and 
enable  the  merchants,  in  rainy  weather,  to  reach  their 
elevated  residences  in  comfort.  Concerning  these  resi- 
dences I  may  add  that  almost  all  of  them  command  a 
superb  view  of  that  compound  octopus-like  arm  of  the 
Pacific  known  as  Puget  Sound,  and  of  the  incomparable 
Mt.  Tacoma. 

To  get  a  perfect  impression  of  Mt.  Tacoma,  however, 
we  must  board  the  steamer  going  either  to  Olympia 
or  to  Seattle  and  Victoria.  Both  these  trips  will  be 
taken  by  every  tourist  who  is  wise.  In  certain  hazy 
conditions  of  the  atmosphere  Mt.  Tacoma,  as  viewed 
from  the  bay,  presents  a  most  unique  and  mysterious 
appearance.  The  haze  completely  conceals  the  broad 
base  and  the  wooded  part  of  the  mountain,  leaving  only 
the  vast  cone  in  sight,  like  a  floating  island  of  snow  on 
an  illimitable  ocean  of  mist.  As  the  steamer  leaves 
the  harbor  for  Olympia,  we  have  this  mountain  on  one 
side,  and  on  the  other  side  rows  of  fine  villas  on  the  crest 
of  the  steep  hill-side,  with  their  feet,  as  it  were,  dangling 


224  THE  AMEEICAN   MEDITERRANEAN. 

over  the  precipice,  and  looking  as  if  the  slightest  earth- 
quake shock  would  make  them  tumble  into  the  harbor. 
But  there  are  no  earthquakes  in  Washington  and  Ore- 
gon, though  their  volcanoes  are  not  quite  cold  yet; 
nor  are  there  any  other  violent  disturbances,  such  as 
cyclones  and  tornadoes.  Hence  the  waters  of  Puget 
Sound  are  always  safe  and  usually  unruffled,  so  that 
sea-sickness  need  not  be  dreaded.  That  part  of  the 
Sound  which  lies  between  Tacoma  and  Olympia  is  not 
so  straight  and  wide  as  the  stretch  between  Tacoma 
and  Seattle,  but  winds  about  like  a  river  and  embraces 
between  its  curves  many  large  and  small  islands,  bays, 
promontories,  and  inlets  where  rivers  and  creeks  add 
their  sweet  water  to  the  briny  substance  of  the  Sound. 
The  comparison  to  an  octopus,  which  I  ventured  to  use 
a  moment  ago,  bold  and  fantastic  as  it  may  seem,  de- 
scribes the  shape  of  this  southwestern  part  of  the  Sound 
remarkably  well,  as  it  here  sends  out  its  feelers  in  every 
direction,  one  of  them  almost  reaching  an  arm  of  Hood's 
Canal.  What  a  paradise  for  yachting  and  picnic  parties 
this  Sound  will  be  when  Tacoma  and  Seattle  have 
reached  the  size  of  San  Francisco,  and  when  Washington 
will  hold  two  or  three  million  inhabitants  —  which  it 
can  without  the  least  crowding,  or  settling  on  poor 
lands ! 

In  some  places,  where  earthslides  have  occurred,  the 
banks  of  the  Sound  are  steep  and  palisade-like,  but 
usually  the  forest  trees  come  right  up  to  the  edge  of 
the  water.  In  this  part  of  the  Sound  the  scenery  pre- 
serves its  primeval  aspect,  human  habitation  being  rare ; 
but  occasionally  an  Indian  hut  may  be  seen,  with  a 
family  group  consisting  of  a  "  warrior  "  taking  his  ease 
on  his  back,  while  his  wife  chops  the  wood  wherewith  to 


THE  AMERICAN   MEDITERRANEAN.  225 

cook  his  dinner,  and  his  mother  mends  his  clothes. 
These  dusky  squaws  have  secured  the  right  of  doing 
masculine  work  which  so  many  of  their  white  sisters  are 
now  clamoring  for ;  and  they  have  husbands,  too,  which 
the  latter  usually  have  not :  and  yet  they  are  not  happy. 

Only  one  town  of  any  significance  —  Steilacoom  — 
is  seen  on  this  route.  Not  far  from  it  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  scenic  points  on  the  Sound  —  a  place 
where  it  widens  out  amid  the  islands  in  such  a  way  that 
it  seems  the  meeting-place  of  five  large  rivers,  re- 
sembling a  central  square  in  a  city  into  which  as  many 
streets  lead.  A  few  hours  more,  and  we  come  to  the 
capital  of  the  State.  Like  the  capital  of  Oregon, 
Olympia  has  not  kept  pace  in  growth  with  some  other 
cities  in  the  State,  its  population  being  about  the  same 
as  that  of  Salem  —  five  or  six  thousand;  and  if  it  is 
ever  to  become  a  commercial  centre,  it  will  have  to  rely 
on  railways  rather  than  on  navigation,  because  its  har- 
bor is  too  much  affected  by  the  tide.  The  mile-long 
pier  which  stands  on  the  sand  in  low  tide  has  been  the 
subject  of  many  cruel  jokes  in  rival  towns.  But 
Olympia  is  considered  a  quiet  and  pleasant  place  to 
reside  in ;  and  while  Tacoma  arrogates  the  title  of  "  City 
of  Destiny,"  and  Seattle  that  of  "  Queen  City  of  the 
Sound,"  Olympia  likes  to  be  called  the  "  City  of 
Homes."  The  houses  are  surrounded  by  gardens  in 
which  flowers  bloom  every  month  in  the  year  and  roses 
run  riot,  and  from  elevated  points  near  by  the  scenic 
outlook  embraces  half-a-dozen  snow-peaks,  including 
those  of  the  Olympic  range. 

It  is  on  the  route  from  Tacoma  to  Seattle  and  Vic- 
toria, however,  that  the  Olympic  range  shows  to  best 
advantage.  The  Sound  here  is,  as  I  have  said,  less 


226  THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

winding  and  less  puzzling  to  all  but  the  pilot,  but  there 
3,re  the  same  endless  changes  and  suprises  in  the  watery 
vista.  At  one  place  the  channel  is  no  wider  than  a 
river,  so  that  one  can  count  the  pebbles  on  the  shore ; 
at  another  it  widens  out  into  a  spacious  lake  dotted  with 
islands ;  and  in  the  upper  part  it  expands  so  much  that 
land  for  awhile  is  out  of  sight  altogether,  and  we  seem 
to  be  on  the  ocean.  Here  the  water  is  not  littered  with 
the  debris  of  saw-mills,  as  in  many  places  below,  but 
seals  may  still  be  encountered  basking  on  logs  in  the 
sunshine.  It  must  be  admitted  that  the  immediate  bank- 
scenery  of  Puget  Sound  nowhere  equals  in  grandeur 
and  interest  that  of  the  Middle  Columbia  River;  but 
the  background  of  snow-mountains  is  even  grander :  the 
scenic  frame  is  here  more  interesting  than  the  picture 
itself.  Tacoma,  St.  Helens,  and  Adams  are  to  be  seen, 
and  just  as  we  enter  the  bay  of  Seattle  we  catch  our  first 
glimpse  of  Mt.  Baker,  —  another  one  of  the  North  Pa- 
cific extinct  volcanic  snow-cones,  eleven  thousand  feet 
in  height.  From  the  hill  above  Seattle  a  much  more 
complete  view  of  this  peak,  which  stands  like  a  sentinel 
just  this  side  of  the  British  boundary,  is  afforded ;  and 
here,  too,  the  Olympic  range  shows  to  best  advantage. 

Unlike  the  other  mountains  of  the  Pacific  Northwest, 
the  dozen  or  more  peaks  which  make  up  the  Olympic 
range  are  not  isolated  volcanic  cones,  but  form  a  range 
of  jagged  peaks  connected  below.  They  are  covered 
with  snow  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  and  rise  in  the 
two  highest  peaks,  Mts.  Olympus  and  Constance,  to  a 
height  of  8150  and  7770  feet  respectively.  It  is  an  odd 
fact  that  until  a  few  months  ago  the  region  enclosed 
by  this  range,  though  appearing  within  stone's-throw 
of  Seattle's  thirty  thousand  inhabitants,  was  almost  as 


THE  AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN.  227 

unknown  as  parts  of  Africa  before  Stanley.  A  few 
trappers  and  prospectors  for  minerals  had  made  spas- 
modic efforts  to  cross  the  mountain  barriers,  and  hence 
arose  rumors  of  the  existence  in  this  wilderness  of 
Indians  who  had  never  seen  a  white  man,  of  beautiful 
lakes  full  of  fish,  fine  valleys  suited  for  grazing  and 
agriculture,  gold,  silver,  iron,  and  lead  ores,  and  bears 
and  elks  enough  to  make  this  a  sportsman's  paradise. 
But  nothing  definite  was  known  until  last  June,  when 
two  parties  that  had  gone  out  in  the  autumn  returned 
in  a  deplorable  condition,  and  reported  on  the  correct- 
ness of  the  rumors.  One  of  these  parties  consisted  of 
Ex-Lieutenant-Governor  Oilman  of  Minnesota  and  his 
son,  and  the  other  was  sent  out  by  the  Seattle  Press. 
Thus  a  new  and  valuable  territory  has  been  added  to 
the  new  State. 

In  writing  about  Puget  Sound  it  is  difficult  to  get  the 
mind  away  from  the  mountains,  but  I  will  only  add  that 
as  the  steamer  enters  Elliott  Bay  we  get  a  most  pictur- 
esque view  of  Seattle,  framed  in  by  Mt.  Baker  on  the 
left,  and  Mt.  Tacoma  (here  always  called  Mt.  Rainier, 
of  course)  on  the  right ;  and  that  the  view  of  the  latter 
peak  is  quite  as  fine  as  at  Tacoma.  Like  Tacoma, 
Seattle  is  built  on  the  side  of  a  hill  sloping  down  to  the 
water,  and  the  harbor  is  excellent,  affording  room  for 
several  miles  of  wharfage.  The  business  streets  are 
again  (as  in  almost  all  cities  of  the  Pacific  Coast)  the 
only  ones  on  level  ground,  while  the  residence  streets 
run  at  right  angles  to  them  up  hill.  In  one  respect 
Seattle  is  perhaps  the  most  modern  of  all  American 
cities,  as  there  is  not  a  single  horse-car  line  in  the  town, 
their  place  being  taken  by  cable  and  electric  lines,  which 
do  the  work  much  better,  quicker,  and  without  cruelty 


228  THE   AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

to  animals,  of  which  all  horse-car  companies  are  inev- 
itably guilty. 

The  first  time  I  saw  Seattle  was  a  few  weeks  after  the 
great  fire  in  1889  which  consumed  the  entire  business 
section  of  the  city,  with  the  wharves,  and  entailed  a  loss 
of  eight  to  ten  millions  on  its  twenty  thousand  inhab- 
itants. It  was  a  most  curious  sight,  —  a  city  of  tents 
built  on  the  charred  ruins  of  the  former  city,  on  the  site 
of  which  it  had  literally  grown  up  in  a  day,  like  a  bed 
of  mushrooms.  Hotels  consisted  of  large  tents  with 
the  office  in  front,  cots  behind,  and  the  kitchen  and 
dining-room  in  other  tents.  Druggists,  barbers,  dry- 
goods  dealers,  grocers,  etc.,  all  had  their  business  in 
tents ;  and  as  a  sufficient  number  of  these  could  not  be 
obtained  immediately,  one  could  see  here  and  there  a 
"  happy  family,"  consisting,  say,  of  a  jeweller,  milliner, 
and  real-estate  dealer,  all  in  one  tent.  But  the  oddest 
sight  I  came  across  was  a  large  tent  filled  with 
miscellaneous  goods,  displayed  on  improvised  benches, 
and  outside  the  tent  was  this  notice  in  large  letters : 

"POSITIVELY  NO   GOODS   AT   RETAIL." 

It  is  possible  that  the  reporters  overdrew  matters  some- 
what (contrary  to  their  natural  propensity)  when  they 
wrote  of  a  theatrical  manager  who,  when  he  saw  his 
building  on  fire,  forthwith  rushed  to  an  architect  for 
plans  for  a  new  one ;  of  a  merchant  who  telegraphed 
for  iron  for  a  new  store  when  he  saw  the  flames  had 
taken  hold  of  his  old  one ;  and  of  wagons  unloading 
stone  for  the  foundations  of  a  new  building  while  the 
hose  was  still  playing  on  the  debris  of  the  old  one :  but 
like  an  exaggerated  perspective  in  a  picture,  such  sto- 
ries, after  all,  only  show  the  situation  in  a  true  light,  since 
the  energy,  pluck,  and  hopefulness  shown  by  the  Seattle- 


THE  AMERICAN   MEDITERRANEAN.  229 

ites  on  this  occasion  have  never  been  paralleled.  When 
the  anniversary  of  the  fire  was  celebrated,  on  June  6, 
1890,  it  was  stated  that  during  the  year  two  hundred 
and  sixty-five  new  buildings  had  been  put  up,  together 
with  sixty  new  wharves,  with  a  frontage  of  over  two 
miles  —  all  of  which,  with  other  improvements,  involved 
the  expenditure  of  almost  twelve  million  dollars.  Sixty 
blocks,  or  one  hundred  and  twenty  acres,  had  been  con- 
sumed, and  in  rebuilding  this  portion  the  streets  have 
been  made  wider  and  straighter,  and  the  buildings  are 
of  much  better  material  and  higher  than  formerly.  The 
old  ones  would  have  been  torn  down  anyway  in  a  few 
years,  so  that,  after  all,  the  fire  proved  a  blessing  in 
disguise  to  the  community  as  a  whole.  On  re-visiting 
Seattle  in  June,  I  found  that  the  new  buildings  were  not 
in  such  an  advanced  stage  as  the  newspaper  accounts 
had  led  one  to  fancy ;  but  there  was  no  mistake  about 
their  being  there,  and  their  metropolitan  dimensions, 
and  their  stone  and  iron  constitution.  The  air  was 
hideous  with  the  noise  of  stone-cutters  and  carpenters, 
and  the  sidewalks  were  impassable  for  the  piles  of 
bricks  and  lumber.  There  were  also  a  few  direct  traces 
of  the  fire  in  piles  of  charred  timber,  and  in  a  few 
scattered  tents  where  groceries,  clothing,  etc.,  were  still 
being  sold,  the  owners  having  probably  lost  too  much 
to  be  able  to  rebuild  at  once. 

Seattle  enjoys  almost  exactly  the  same  advantages  as 
Tacoma  regarding  scenery,  climate,  shipping,  coal,  and 
lumber,  and  further  details  can  therefore  be  dispensed 
with.  Both  these  cities  doubtless  have  a  great  future  be- 
fore them,  and  there  is  no  ground  for  the  fierce  jealousy 
between  them.  But  if  the  Seattleites  do  not  wish  to 
alienate  the  sympathies  of  tourists,  they  should  cease 


230  THE   AMERICAN  MEDITERRANEAN. 

naming  the  glorious  Mt.  Tacoma  after  an  obscure  Eng- 
lish lord  when  we  have  such  a  beautiful  American  name 
for  it. 

Beyond  Seattle  the  Sound  widens  out,  and  forty-seven 
miles  to  the  north  we  come  to  the  last  of  our  cities  this 
side  of  Alaska,  —  Port  Townsend,  the  United  States 
customs  stations,  at  which  all  vessels  that  enter  or 
leave  the  Sound  have  to  report.  It  has  most  of  the 
advantages  of  other  Sound  cities,  and  a  population  at 
present  of  five  thousand.  In  the  number  of  customs 
entries,  Port  Townsend  claims  to  be  next  to  New  York. 
The  climatic  vagaries  produced  on  the  Pacific  Coast  by  the 
"  Chinook  "  wind,  which  comes  from  the  Japan  Current, 
are  curiously  illustrated  by  the  rainfall  at  this  city.  As 
a  general  thing,  the  rainfall  on  the  Pacific  Coast  may  be 
said  to  increase  steadily  from  San  Diego's  ten  inches  to 
Sitka's  one  hundred  and  eight.  But,  oddly  enough,  there 
is  less  rain  in  the  Puget  Sound  region  than  in  Oregon, 
the  "  web-foot "  State.  Tacoma  has  forty  inches,  and  Port 
Townsend  only  sixteen.  Similarly,  it  is  observed  that 
less  rain  falls  in  Vancouver's  Island  than  in  British 
Columbia  in  general.  But  when  he  gets  into  Alaska, 
the  tourist  is  fortunate  if  he  comes  upon  a  rainless  week 
even  in  summer ;  and  in  rainy  weather  its  scenic  won- 
ders can  only  be  half  appreciated.  It  seems,  therefore, 
as  if  Puget  Sound  had  been  placed  where  it  is  as  a  sam- 
ple of  Alaskan  scenery  and  inland  coast  navigation ; 
and  a  most  excellent  sample  it  is,  for  it  is  only  when 
we  get  up  as  far  as  Sitka  that  the  Alaskan  salt-water 
river  boasts  of  snow-peaks  comparable  to  Mts.  Tacoma 
Adams,  Baker,  St.  Helens,  and  Hood,  which  adorn 
Puget  Sound. 


XV. 
A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

A     GREAT    SALT-WATER    RIVER — THE     GENUINE    AMERICAN 
SWITZERLAND  —  HIGHEST  SNOW-MOUNTAIN  IN  THE  WORLD 

—  THE    EXCURSION     SEASON ISLANDS    AND     FORESTS 

INDIAN   TRAITS  —  ALASKAN   VILLAGES  —  GLACIER   BAT  — 
AN    ICEBERG    FACTORY. 

IF  Long  Island  Sound  could  be  continued  for  about 
a  thousand  miles,  past  the  coasts  of  Maine,  Newfound- 
land, and  Labrador,  as  far  as  the  entrance  to  Hud- 
son's Bay,  so  that  tourists  might  go  all  the  way  on  fast 
river-steamers,  with  state-rooms  on  the  main  deck,  and 
without  the  slightest  risk  of  sea-sickness;  and  if  this 
hypothetic  "  Long  Island  "  could  be  broken  up  into  sev- 
eral thousand,  which,  instead  of  being  flat  and  sandy, 
were  covered  with  forests  of  almost  tropical  luxuriance 
and  with  mountains  of  an  infinite  variety  of  shape,  con- 
tinually increasing  in  altitude  until  they  culminated 
in  two  snow-peaks  higher  than  Mt.  Blanc,  outrunners 
of  the  third  highest  mountain  range  in  the  world,  and 
sending  clear  down  and  into  the  salt  water  numerous 
glaciers,  compared  with  which  those  in  Switzerland  are 
mere  pigmies,  —  if,  in  other  words,  the  strip  of  coast 
which  extends  from  Tacoma,  Washington,  to  Glacier 
Bay  in  Alaska  could  be  transferred  to  the  Atlantic  side, 

231 


232  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

it  is  safe  to  say  that  at  least  a  score  of  large  steamers, 
crowded  with  passengers,  would  be  going  up  and  down 
this  salt-water  river  all  summer  long.  The  Atlantic 
Coast  people,  however,  even  if  they  possessed  this 
scenic  bonanza,  would  hardly  be  able  to  enjoy  it  com- 
fortably, on  account  of  the  icy  ocean  current  which 
sweeps  down  Davis  Strait  and  chills  and  befogs  Labra- 
dor and  Newfoundland  even  in  summer.  Most  persons 
in  the  East  seem  to  imagine  that  Alaska  must  be  in  a 
similar,  if  not  a  worse,  predicament;  but  they  reckon 
without  the  warm  Japan  Current  which  does  for  South- 
ern Alaska  what  the  Gulf  Stream  does  for  the  British 
Islands.  Northwestern  Alaska,  indeed,  shares  with 
Northern  Siberia  the  honor  of  having  the  coldest  climate 
in  the  world ;  but  the  southeastern  portion  of  the  coast, 
as  far  north  as  Sitka,  has  a  climate  much  warmer  than 
that  of  Maine,  though  Sitka  is  some  fifteen  degrees  of 
latitude  north  of  Portland,  Maine.  It  must  be  borne  in 
mind  how  vast  a  country  Alaska  is,  —  as  large,  one  writer 
has  calculated,  as  the  original  thirteen  States.  A  still 
more  graphic  way  of  realizing  its  extent  is  by  noting 
that  from  California  it  is  as  far  to  the  western  extremity 
of  Alaska  as  it  is  to  New  York ;  so  that  the  central  city 
of  the  United  States  is  not  Omaha  or  St.  Paul,  but  San 
Francisco  ! 

Fifty  years  hence,  in  my  humble  opinion,  San  Fran- 
cisco, or  the  then  metropolis  of  the  Pacific  Coast,  will 
be  not  only  geographically  but  in  many  other  ways 
the  centre  of  American  life.  The  agricultural,  scenic, 
climatic,  and  hygienic  superiority  of  the  Western  to 
the  Eastern  Coast  is  too  great  not  to  affect  the  question 
of  population  and  civilization.  But  long  before  that 
era  Alaska  will  have  universally  established  its  claim 


A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA.  233 

to  that  much  abused-phrase  "the  American  Switzer- 
land,"—  unless,  indeed,  the  terms  should  be  con- 
verted, and  Switzerland  come  to  be  complimented  as 
"  the  European  Alaska."  Yearly  the  number  increases 
of  those  who  ask  themselves  whether,  instead  of  going 
to  Europe  every  summer,  it  would  not  be  worth  while 
to  try  a  Western  trip.  Before  the  Yellowstone  Park 
and  Alaska  were  made  conveniently  accessible,  this 
Western  trip  could  hardly  have  been  recommended  as 
an  equivalent  for  Europe ;  but  now  the  scales  are  pretty 
evenly  balanced,  and  as  soon  as  the  St.  Elias  range  shall 
have  been  included  in  the  regular  round  trip,  and  pro- 
vided with  guides,  roads,  and  hotels,  Switzerland  will 
have  to  "take  a  back  seat";  for  St.  Elias  rises  twenty 
thousand  feet  into  the  air,  and  can  be  seen  from  base  to 
top,  with  a  snow-and-ice  mantle  reaching  down  to  the 
very  level  of  the  ocean,  while  the  highest  mountain  in 
Switzerland  is  only  15,784  feet  high  (to  the  spectator 
only  about  twelve  thousand,  as  he  is  already  several 
thousand  feet  high  when  he  sees  it),  and  has  a  snow- 
mantle  of  only  about  seven  thousand  feet.  Indeed, 
considering  that  in  the  Himalayas  and  the  Andes,  the 
only  two  ranges  that  tower  above  the  St.  Elias,  the 
snow-line  is  as  high  as  fifteen  thousand  to  twenty 
thousand  feet,  it  is  clear  that  St.  Elias  must  be  the 
highest  snow  mountain  in  the  world. 

Unfortunately,  the  present  Alaskan  round  trip  does 
not  include  St.  Elias,  although  the  majority  of  the  tour- 
ists would  gladly  risk  the  chances  of  sea-sickness  by 
making  the  additional  two  hundred  miles  from  Sitka  in 
the  open  sea.  Two  mountains  of  the  St.  Elias  range, 
with  their  stupendous  glaciers,  —  Fairweather  and  Cril- 
lon,  both  higher  than  Mt.  Blanc,  —  are,  however,  vis- 


234  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

ible  to  those  who  make  the  present  tour;  and  al- 
though, like  St.  Elias,  they  are  lamentably  apt  to  hide 
themselves  beneath  and  above  clouds,  even  those  who 
miss  this  wonderful  sight  find  so  much  that  is  unique 
in  the  other  attractions,  that  no  one  has  ever  been 
known  to  feel  the  slightest  desire  to  "get  his  money 
back."  Were  the  scenery  much  less  inspiring  than  it 
is,  yet  would  the  trip  be  worth  making  for  its  hygienic 
value.  Here,  for  two  or  three  weeks,  one  can  breathe  a 
delicious  mixture  of  ocean  and  mountain  air,  the  latter 
just  sufficiently  impregnated  with  the  fragrance  of  pine 
forests  to  prevent  that  enervating  languor  which  an 
exclusive  lung  diet  of  ocean  air  is  apt  to  breed.  As  re- 
gards the  appetite  for  solid  food,  its  average  size  may  be 
inferred  from  Captain  Carroll's  favorite  joke,  —  that,  as 
the  provisions  are  running  short,  he  shall  be  compelled  to 
take  the  turbulent  outside  passage  back  in  order  to  curb 
the  gastronomic  propensities  of  the  passengers. 

The  fare  provided  on  these  steamers  is  about  as  good 
as  that  on  the  average  Atlantic  steamers,  but  the  daily 
salmon  and  a  few  other  dishes  become  monotonous,  and 
the  passengers  look  in  vain  for  "  local  color  "  in  the  bill 
of  fare ;  i.e.  for  venison  and  bear  steak,  wild  ducks  and 
geese,  salmon-berries,  and  some  of  the  usual  kinds  of 
fish  that  haunt  these  waters.  The  fault  for  this  omis- 
sion is  laid  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Indians,  who  are  said 
to  be  too  lazy  to  hunt  and  fish  for  more  than  they  need 
for  themselves  daily.  But  as  they  willingly  work  in  the 
mines  for  two  dollars  a  day,  it  is  probable  they  would 
gladly  hunt  and  fish  for  the  steamer  stewards  if  enough 
were  offered  them.  Yet,  as  just  intimated,  one  needs  no 
such  special  stimulants  for  the  appetite,  and  one  thing  is 
certain,  that  the  large  number  of  invalids  who  cross  the 


A   WEEK  IN  ALASKA.  235 

Atlantic  yearly,  chiefly  to  get  the  benefits  of  a  sea-voy- 
age, would  do  much  better  to  go  to  Alaska,  for  there 
they  would  be  sure  of  gaining  in  weight  daily,  owing  to 
the  absence  of  sea-sickness.  And  another  thing  in  favor 
of  the  Alaskan  tour  is,  that  one  is  certain  to  find  pleas- 
ant companionship  on  the  steamers.  The  passengers  on 
Atlantic  steamers  represent  all  classes  of  society,  and 
even  of  the  tourists  not  all  are  pleasure-seekers  in  an 
aesthetic  sense ;  but  of  the  Alaskan  passengers  the  ma- 
jority are  apt  to  be  persons  of  refinement  and  taste,  since 
the  only  magnet  that  can  draw  them  there  is  the  hope 
of  enjoying  fine  scenery. 

Most  of  the  tourists,  not  feeling  quite  certain  whether 
Alaska  will  come  up  to  their  expectations,  go  on  the 
elegant  new  steamer  which  is  provided  with  all  mod- 
ern comforts  and  makes  the  round  trip  in  twelve  days ; 
but  not  a  few  regret  afterwards  that  they  did  not  take 
one  of  the  old  freight  steamers,  Idaho  or  Ancon,  which 
require  about  a  week  more  for  the  trip,  and,  as  they 
repeatedly  stop  a  whole  day  at  interesting  places,  allow 
the  passengers  more  time  to  explore  the  neighborhood, 
and  go  fishing,  observe  the  natives,  hunt  for  curios,  etc. 
The  fast  steamer  makes  only  six  or  seven  stops  in 
twelve  days,  remaining  from  two  to  six  hours  at  each 
place  ;  and  for  almost  three  days  after  leaving  Victoria 
she  makes  no  stop  at  all,  thus  resembling  an  ocean 
steamer,  —  a  resemblance  made  the  more  suggestive  by 
a  series  of  rocky  islands  near  Victoria  that  look  very 
much  like  the  coast  of  Ireland  when  first  approached  on 
the  voyage  to  Liverpool. 

The  regular  tourist  season  extends  from  the  middle 
of  April  to  the  middle  of  October.  Early  in  the  year 
passengers  will  see  more  of  the  "  midnight  sun,"  but  in 


236  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

July  and  August  fogs  and  rain  are  less  common,  although 
even  during  those  months  the  warm  winds  blowing  in- 
land from  the  Japanese  Current  are  very  apt  to  con- 
dense into  clouds  and  rain,  —  a  wise  arrangement  which 
prevents  the  scenery  from  becoming  monotonous  to  the 
tourists ;  and  if  any  interesting  point  is  thereby  missed, 
there  is  always  a  chance  of  seeing  it  on  the  return  trip, 
—  unless,  indeed,  the  captain  should  choose  a  different 
channel.  There  is  an  endless  variety  to  select  from,  and 
the  marvel  is  that  any  captain  or  pilot  should  ever  be 
able  to  find  his  way  through  this  labyrinth.  For  what 
the  Milky  Way  is  among  stars,  this  island-studded  archi- 
pelago is  among  terrestrial  water-ways.  Captain  Car- 
roll, however,  finds  his  way  as  unerringly  as  the  salmon 
which  at  some  seasons  splash  about  the  ship,  bound  for 
the  rivers  of  the  interior.  There  is  not  a  single  light- 
house — only  here  and  there  a  rude  post.  Fortunately  the 
nights  never  become  entirely  dark,  and  even  a  dense  fog 
does  not  arrest  the  steamer's  progress ;  for  the  pilots  have 
learned,  by  blowing  the  steam-whistle,  to  judge  by  the 
echo  the  distance  from  either  shore ;  and  the  water  is 
almost  invariably  so  deep  that  danger  is  reduced  to  a 
minimum. 

During  our  trip,  which  commenced  on  August  22,  the 
fog  was  never  dense  enough  to  call  for  the  steam-whis- 
tle ;  but  the  dense  smoke,  the  result  of  forest  fires  and 
"  clearings,"  which  had  prevented  us  from  enjoying  the 
Columbia  River  scenery  and  Mts.  Hood  and  Tacoma, 
also  hid  from  us  the  charms  of  the  far-famed  Puget 
Sound  region  with  its  background  of  Olympian  and 
other  snow-mountains.  Gradually,  however,  as  we 
passed  along  British  Columbia  towards  Alaska,  the 
smoke  grew  less  dense  and  finally  disappeared  entirely. 


A   WEEK  IN  ALASKA.  237 

Isolated  columns  of  smoke  were  still  to  be  seen  fre- 
quently in  the  midst  of  the  primitive  forests,  indicating 
Indian  camps;  but  in  Alaska,  thanks  to  the  frequent 
rains,  forest  fires  cannot  occur  —  a  fact  which  will  con- 
sole the  economically  minded  for  the  enormous  wastes 
of  timber  in  Washington  Territory  and  Oregon.  The 
visible  wealth  of  Alaska,  as  Mr.  Hallock  remarks,  lies  in 
these  forests :  "  There  is  a  supply  here  of  5,700,000,000 
feet  at  a  low  estimate,  a  very  large  part  of  which  is  at 
once  accessible  for  shipment,  as  saw-mills  and  vessels 
can  lie  right  alongside  the  timber  at  tide  water  all  the 
way  up  the  coast  as  far  as  it  extends  " ;  and  Alaska  with 
its  islands  is  said  to  have  a  coast-line  of  twenty-five 
thousand  miles,  equal  to  the  circumference  of  the  globe. 

Not  only  has  Alaska  the  third  highest  mountain 
range  in  the  world,  but  if  the  greatest  landscape  artist 
had  been  consulted,  its  members  could  not  have  been 
arranged  in  a  manner  more  continuously  impressive  to 
the  tourist.  Beginning  near  Victoria  with  a  moderate 
altitude  and  mere  patches  of  snow  on  the  sides,  they 
daily  grow  higher  and  whiter  until  the  climax  is  reached 
in  the  St.  Elias  group.  When  we  were  northward 
bound,  the  smoky  atmosphere  hid  the  distant  peaks  and 
left  the  impression  that  snow  was  rather  scarce  for  the 
first  three  days ;  but  on  the  return  trip  a  shower  had 
preceded  us,  clearing  away  this  smoke,  revealing  snow 
in  abundance,  including,  about  thirty-six  hours  from 
Victoria,  an  undulating  range  with  immense  snow-fields 
that  would  not  be  without  honor  even  in  Switzerland ; 
and  this  was  before  Alaska  proper  had  been  reached. 

The  whole  of  the  second  and  third  days  the  passen- 
gers could  imagine  themselves  sailing  along  the  Hudson 
River  Highlands  or  Loreley  Rock  on  the  Rhine ;  but  after 


238  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

that  all  comparison  with  Eastern  rivers  ceased,  and  the 
Columbia  alone,  with  its  background  of  snow-moun- 
tains, afforded  approximate  terms  of  comparison.  The 
hour  for  sleep  was  postponed  as  long  as  possible,  from 
fear  of  losing  some  of  the  grand  sights.  As  one  of  the 
passengers  remarked,  it  would  be  possible  to  make  hun- 
dreds of  Lake  Georges  out  of  this  Alaskan  salt-water 
river.  The  word  "  lake  "  is  very  appropriate,  as  the  chan- 
nel widens  and  apparently  comes  to  an  end,  as  in  a  few 
places  on  the  Hudson,  so  that  tourists  frequently  amuse 
themselves  by  guessing  which  way  the  pilot  is  going  to 
turn  next.  In  some  places  the  channel  is  so  wide  that 
land  disappears  on  one  side ;  at  other  times  so  narrow 
that  a  woman  could  throw  a  stone  on  either  shore. 

Of  the  abundance  and  variety  of  islands  which  adorn 
this  water-way,  only  those  can  form  a  remote  conception 
who  have  seen  the  Thousand  Islands  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence. But  in  Alaska,  as  one  writer  has  remarked,  we 
see  not  a  thousand  islands  only,  but  "  a  thousand  miles 
of  islands,"  some  as  large  as  a  State  or  a  European  king- 
dom, others  just  large  enough  for  a  house  and  garden ; 
while  many  look  as  if  future  generations  would  inevi- 
tably call  them  "  Picnic  Islands,"  so  cosey  and  inviting 
are  they.  Like  the  mountains  that  line  the  shores,  all 
these  islands  are  densely  wooded  and  very  few  of  them 
are  flat.  Indeed,  a  strip  of  flat  land  in  this  part  of 
Alaska  is  such  a  curiosity  that  the  tourist's  attention  is 
unconsciously  attracted  by  it  —  reminding  one  of  the 
young  Tyrolean  girl's  exclamation  on  entering  for  the 
first  time  the  monotonous  plain  between  Munich  and 
Stuttgart:  "Oh,  mamma,  look  out  of  the  window.  How 
beautiful !  there  is  not  a  mountain  in  sight ! " 

Bare  hill-sides  are  almost  equally  rare  in  Alaska,  till 


A  WEEK  IN   ALASKA.  239 

one  reaches  the  glacier  regions.  Everywhere  the  forests 
extend  down  to  the  very  edge  of  the  water,  and  during 
high  tide  they  actually  seem  to  overlap  or  grow  out  of 
the  water.  Consequently  there  is  no  beach,  its  place 
being  taken  at  low  tide  by  ten  feet  or  more  of  rocky 
wall  adorned  with  mosses  and  other  vegetable  and 
animal  growths,  and  sometimes  almost  as  brilliantly 
colored  as  the  walls  of  the  Yellowstone  Canon.  The 
forests  above  add  to  this  an  endless  variety  of  green  tints, 
indicating  the  different  kinds  of  wood,  the  age  of  the 
trees  ;  or,  perchance,  an  isolated  streak  of  fresher  color 
betrays  the  path  of  an  avalanche  which  carried  away 
the  old  trees  and  made  room  for  a  new  growth. 

Some  of  the  mountains  are  so  rocky  that  they  afford 
insufficient  nourishment  to  the  trees,  which  consequently 
die  after  a  certain  age,  their  gray,  leafless  skeletons 
suggesting  the  thought  that  after  all  forest  fires  have 
their  use  as  a  sort  of  scavengers.  Still,  these  gray  and 
green  forests  are  less  uninviting  than  those  black  and 
green  charnel  forests  in  which  the  fires  have  done  their 
work  incompletely  ;  and  they  are  the  exception,  not  the 
rule,  in  Alaska. 

For  the  first  three  days,  as  already  intimated,  these 
aspects  of  nature  were  the  only  new  experiences  and 
sights  offered  to  the  Olympian's  passengers,  no  stops 
being  made  after  Fort  Townsend  and  Victoria  till  we 
reached  Juneau  (the  largest  town  in  Alaska),  omitting 
Nanaimo,  Tongas,  and  Wrangel.  It  is  customary  to 
stop  at  each  place  of  any  importance,  either  in  going  up 
or  returning,  the  captain  being  guided  in  his  decision 
chiefly  by  the  necessity  of  passing  certain  dangerous 
places  when  the  tide  is  favorable. 

The  most  perilous  of  these  places  is  Seymour  Rapids, 


240  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

some  hours  north  of  Nanaimo.  As  we  approached  these 
narrows,  the  water  presented  a  most  turbulently  fasci- 
nating appearance,  twirling  around  furiously  in  hun- 
dreds of  little  whirlpools,  while  large  portions  of  the 
surface  appeared  to  be  several  feet  higher  than  the 
adjoining  parts,  as  if  a  submarine  earthquake  had  raised 
some  places  and  thus  made  the  water  run  down  hill. 
The  spectacle  was  as  exciting  as  the  Niagara  rapids, 
and  more  sublime,  because  the  fact  of  being  on  the 
water,  and  the  knowledge  that  there  were  hidden  rocks 
all  about,  added  just  that  slight  suspicion  of  danger 
which  stimulates  the  feeling  of  sublimity. 

In  the  narrowest  part  of  the  channel  a  regular  water- 
fall was  produced  by  the  headlong  plunge  of  the  tide 
waters  down  some  rocks  near  the  eastern  shore,  while 
the  other  side  was  rendered  equally  dangerous  by  num- 
erous rocks,  thus  leaving  only  a  very  narrow  channel  in 
the  middle  for  the  steamer  to  pass  through.  The  Idaho 
and  Ancon  never  attempt  this  passage  while  the  tide 
rushes  through  it  like  a  mountain  torrent,  but  the 
Olympian  plunged  in  boldly.  In  vain,  however,  did  the 
engineer  strain  every  muscle  of  his  machinery;  for 
more  than  an  hour  the  noble  steamer,  though  paddling 
away  at  a  rate  of  almost  twenty  miles  an  hour,  did  not 
move  a  yard.  Here  was  a  lovely  situation  for  timid 
souls,  with  plenty  of  time  to  speculate  on  the  possibility 
of  the  shaft  or  rudder  breaking,  and  to  recall  the  fact 
that  in  this  very  place  two  vessels  have  already  come  to 
grief,  one  at  a  sacrifice  of  seventy  Chinese  lives ! 
But  the  Olympian  suddenly  made  a  spurt,  and  the  salt 
water-fall  and  the  maelstroms  were  left  behind. 

On  the  fourth  day  we  met  the  Pinta  in  a  shallow, 
quiet  bay,  and  exchanged  greetings,  mails,  and  provis- 


A   WEEK  IN   ALASKA.  241 

ions.  The  Pinta  is  the  diminutive  man-of-war  which 
cruises  these  waters  and  keeps  the  Indians  in  sub- 
jection through  the  fear  of  having  their  villages 
bombarded.  While  the  brass  buttons  of  the  officers 
exerted  their  usual  magnetic  power  over  the  eyes  of  the 
young  ladies,  the  other  passengers  were  less  roman- 
tically employed  in  watching  the  jelly-fish  which 
crowded  about  the  steamers,  literally  by  the  million. 

The  next  incident  of  importance  was  our  stop  at 
the  gold  mines  opposite  Juneau,  and  subsequently  at 
Juneau  itself.  Everybody  went  ashore  to  see  the 
mines  and  the  quartz  mills,  where  a  hundred  or  more 
machines  reduce  the  ore  to  sand  with  a  most  terrific 
noise.  The  mine  was  said  to  be  worth  twice  the  price 
paid  for  Alaska,  and  it  was  evidently  prospering,  to 
judge  by  the  additional  buildings  in  course  of  erection. 

At  Juneau,  which  is  a  larger  place  than  Sitka,  the 
first  thing  that  strikes  the  eye  is  the  large  number  of 
"  drugstores,"  almost  every  other  building  being  labelled 
as  such.  Can  it  be  that  the  Indian  habit  of  leaving  the 
heads  and  tails  of  salmon  to  decay  in  the  street,  in  their 
part  of  the  village,  has  such  an  injurious  effect  on  the 
health  of  the  Juneauites  ?  or  has  the  fact  that  the  sale 
of  whiskey  is  forbidden  in  Alaska  a  remote  bearing  on 
the  subject?  Certainly  neither  the  whites  nor  the 
Indians  look  unhealthy. 

Most  of  the  Indian  men  were  at  work  in  the  mines, 
but  the  squaws  sat  in  rows  on  the  pier  or  in  front  of 
their  houses,  offering  for  sale  grass  baskets,  furs,  blankets, 
small  canoes  and  paddles,  totem-poles,  wooden  spoons, 
masks,  bracelets  made  of  silver  dollars,  berries,  etc. 
Each  squaw  seems  to  have  the  shrewdness  and  business 
instincts  of  a  Jew  and  a  Yankee  rolled  into  one,  In 


A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

their  own  language  they  comment  freely  on  the  tourists, 
—  tit  for  tat, — and  appear  to  find  their  doings  rather 
ludicrous,  which,  no  doubt,  they  sometimes  are.  These 
squaws  have  obviously  given  their  husbands  elementary 
lessons  in  "woman's  rights  " ;  for  the  latter  never  dare  to 
sell  anything  for  a  lower  price  than  first  asked,  and  if  the 
wife  says  No,  the  bargain  comes  to  naught.  The  squaws 
are  also  allowed  to  share  the  labor  of  the  men  on  the 
water,  and  they  are  experts  in  paddling  their  own  canoes. 
Their  domestic  accomplishments  are  less  admirable. 
The  interior  of  the  house  is  as  uncleanly  as  the  blankets 
they  wear,  and  it  would  not  be  pleasant  to  think  of 
entering  their  huts  were  it  not  for  the  disinfecting  smoke 
which  pervades  them.  With  a  few  exceptions,  they 
have  no  stoves,  the  food  being  cooked  over  an  open  fire 
in  the  centre  of  the  floor.  The  smoke  seeks  to  escape 
through  a  hole  in  the  roof,  but,  before  escaping,  it  is 
utilized  for  curing  strips  of  salmon  that  are  hung  on 
strings  below  the  hole.  In  front  of  the  houses  other 
rows  of  salmon  are  suspended  on  sticks  to  dry  in  the 
sun  ;  and  before  each  hut  lies  a  canoe  carefully  covered 
with  mats,  to  protect  it  against  the  sun. 

At  Sitka  we  had  an  opportunity  to  see  the  Indians  as 
influenced  by  missionary  efforts.  The  Mission  School 
contains  over  a  hundred  boys  and  girls.  The  girls  do 
the  cooking,  and  the  boys  are  experts  in  carpentry. 
Their  chairs  and  bedsteads  are  very  neatly  made,  and 
are  to  be  seen  in  most  of  the  Indian  huts.  The  boys 
wear  a  blue  uniform,  to  give  them  a  sort  of  esprit  de 
corps ;  and  the  girls  appear  to  give  considerable  atten- 
tion to  their  appearance,  especially  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  hair.  Their  gait  is  very  ungraceful,  owing,  as 
some  say,  to  the  fact  that  their  ancestors  spent  so  much 


A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA.  243 

of  their  time  in  canoes.  Among  the  half-breeds,  and  the 
Indians  too,  some  have  considerable  beauty  of  figure 
and  face ;  and  were  it  not  for  the  large  mouth,  many 
more  would  be  pretty. 

It  is  impossible  to  look  at  these  Indians  and  not  come 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  are  descended  from  the 
Japanese.  The  whole  cast  of  the  face  is  Japanese : 
the  cheeks,  the  small,  sparkling  black  eyes,  with  their 
scant  lashes  and  brows,  and  the  complexion,  are  unmis- 
takably so ;  and  the  fact  that,  not  so  many  years  ago, 
some  Japanese  mariners  were  shipwrecked  on  the  Alas- 
kan coast,  makes  the  Japanese  origin  of  the  American 
Indian  all  the  more  probable.  Another  Japanese  trait 
of  these  Indians  is  their  bright  intelligence  and  their 
eagerness  to  adopt  the  customs  of  the  white  man.  They 
learn  very  readily,  and  some  of  the  pupils  recited  and 
prayed  in  English,  while  several  squaws  and  Indian  men 
prayed  in  their  own  guttural  language.  The  singing 
of  these  children  did  not  differ  much  in  quality  of  tone 
or  intonation  from  that  in  our  primary  schools. 

Besides  these  Indians,  there  is  little  of  interest  in 
Sitka  itself  besides  the  old  Russian  castle  and  the  Greek 
church,  in  which  it  is  odd  to  see  pictures  of  saints  in 
these  out-of-the-way  regions.  The  church  itself  does  not 
deserve  the  amount  of  attention  it  has  received,  except 
from  an  antiquarian  point  of  view;  but  the  charms  of 
Sitka  harbor  have  hardly  been  exaggerated  even  by 
those  who  compare  it  to  the  Gulf  of -Naples.  The  arri- 
val of  a  steamer  is  always  a  great  event  for  the  Sit- 
kans,  natives  and  whites,  who  assemble  on  the  wharf  to 
greet  her  arrival  and  cheer  her  departure ;  and  the  local 
weekly  paper,  the  Alaskan,  was  enterprising  enough  to 
get  out  an  extra  in  a  couple  of  hours,  with  the  passen- 


244  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

ger  list  |  and  this  edition  the  young  ladies  bought  by  the 
dozen  and  mailed  to  their  friends  as  conclusive  evidence 
that  they  had  been  so  near  the  north  pole. 

In  speaking  of  Sitka  before  Glacier  Bay  I  have  fol- 
lowed the  map  rather  than  the  steamer's  course;  for 
Sitka  is  already  some  distance  on  the  home  stretch,  and 
before  arriving  there  the  steamers  visit  Lynn  Canal, 
which  leads  up  to  the  Chilcat  country,  famous  for  its 
furs,  blankets,  salmon-canneries,  and  glaciers ;  and  then 
Glacier  Bay,  which  runs  almost  parallel  to  Lynn  Canal, 
and,  with  the  Muir  Glacier,  represents  the  climax  of  the 
present  Alaskan  tour.  Lynn  Canal  contains  a  large 
number  of  glaciers,  each  of  which  would  make  the  for- 
tune of  a  village  and  a  dozen  hotels  in  Switzerland,  and 
conspicuous  among  them  are  the  magnificent  Eagle  and 
Davidson  Glaciers,  which  would  be  the  "lions"  of 
Southern  Alaska  were  they  not  slightly  surpassed  in 
grandeur  by  the  Muir  Glacier,  which,  Jumbo-like,  there- 
fore gets  all  the  attention  of  the  visitors. 

As  the  steamer  enters  Lynn  and  Glacier  bays,  the 
scenery  becomes  truly  Arctic,  as  well  as  the  climate,  and 
overcoats  are  in  demand.  Vast  snow-fields  are  visible 
in  every  direction,  and  the  frozen  rivers  or  glaciers  which 
represent  their  drainage  all  creep  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  in  some  cases  presenting  a  front  of  several  miles. 
As  the  steamer  moves  on,  the  panorama  constantly 
changes,  showing  the  mountains  and  glaciers  from  every 
point  of  view  without  involving  the  slightest  fatigue  on 
the  part  of  the  tourists ;  and  as  soon  as  one  ice-river  is 
out  of  sight,  another  shows  its  edge,  and  gradually  stands 
revealed  in  all  its  grandeur.  One  never  gets  over  the 
surprise  that  the  snow-line  should  be  so  low  —  that 
the  snow  in  the  crater-like  dug-outs  on  the  mountain 


A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA.  245 

sides  should  be  so  near  the  level  of  the  ocean  in  mid- 
summer. 

On  entering  Glacier  Bay,  another  Arctic  surprise 
awaits  the  tourist.  Icebergs  of  all  shapes  and  sizes  begin 
to  float  about  the  steamer,  some  just  large  enough  to  fill 
the  steward's  depleted  ice-box,  others,  the  size  of  a 
steamer,  compelling  the  Olympian  to  moderate  her  speed. 
As  the  great  glacier  is  in  sight  two  hours  before  the 
steamer  reaches  it,  though  headed  directly  for  it,  the 
passengers  have  ample  time  to  admire  the  exquisite  blue 
and  white  tints  of  these  icebergs,  and  note  their  odd 
forms  and  resemblances  to  the  hull  of  a  steamer,  various 
geometrical  figures,  a  bundle  of  logs,  a  fairy  grotto,  or  a 
sphinx,  etc.  .Some  of  them  are  entirely  covered  with 
scores  of  gulls,  which  fly  away  with  harsh  cries  as  the 
steamer  approaches. 

It  appears  incredible  that  the  surface  of  the  glacier 
which  lies  a  few  miles  ahead  should  be  more  than  two 
hundred  feet  above  the  water;  it  seems  no  more  than 
twenty;  but  the  apparent  height  constantly  increases 
until  the  steamer  brings  up  suddenly  within  a  few  hun- 
dred feet  of  the  icy  wall.  Then  there  is  a  chorus  of  ohs 
and  ahs,  and  the  Bishop  of  Rochester  (England),  who 
is  one  of  the  passengers,  dogmatically  pronounces  it  the 
grandest  sight  in  the  world. 

Imagine  a  wall  of  solid  ice,  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  feet  high,  extending  for  about  a  mile  to  right  and 
left,  the  upper  portions  white  and  broken  up  into  the 
most  fantastic  crags  and  pinnacles,  like  the  rocks  of  the 
Yellowstone  Canon  ;  the  lower  portions  of  a  deeper  and 
deeper  blue,  according  as  the  increased  pressure  from 
above  and  from  the  sides  has  squeezed  out  the  air  and 
changed  the  solid  snow  into  pure  ice,  producing  near 


246  A  WEEK  IN  ALASKA. 

the  centre  a  grotto  of  more  than  celestial  blue.  Imagine, 
furthermore,  that  there  are  eight  hundred  feet  more  of 
this  wall  under  the  water,  that  even  if  it  is  true  that  the 
Muir  Glacier  moves  thirty  or  forty  feet  a  day,  instead 
of  only  two  or  three,  like  those  of  Switzerland,  the.  por- 
tion of  ice  now  visible  to  the  eye  represents  snow  that 
fell  perhaps  hundreds  of  years  ago,  and  has  been  slowly 
creeping  down  with  the  ice-river  ever  since — and  the 
meaning  of  the  word  "  sublime  "  will  perhaps  become 
clearer  than  any  metaphysical  definition  could  make  it. 

Every  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  the  spectator  is  startled 
from  his  reveries  by  an  explosion,  followed  by  an  aggra- 
vated multitudinous  echo,  and  caused  by  the  fall  of  a 
portion  of  the  ice-wall  into  the  bay,  where  it  floats  away 
as  an  iceberg.  As  it  splashes  into  the  sea,  the  water  flies 
up  as  in  a  geyser,  and  a  wild  wave  dashes  over  the  rocks, 
tosses  about  the  steamer,  and  threatens  to  land  it  high 
and  dry  on  the  beach. 

After  this  spectacle  has  grown  familiar,  the  boats  are 
lowered,  and  every  one  goes  ashore  to  climb  up  the  side 
of  the  glacier  and  get  views  of  its  rugged  surface,  resem- 
bling a  stormy  ocean  suddenly  frozen  with  all  its  white- 
caps.  Here  also  can  be  seen  the  dozen  or  more  tributaiy 
glaciers  which  combine  to  make  the  Muir,  and  the  semi- 
circle of  snow-mountains  whose  sides  they  adorn.  The 
amateur  photographers  have  brought  their  apparatus 
along,  and  take  groups  of  the  passengers  with  this  pic- 
turesque background;  and  then  the  steamer's  whistle 
summons  all  back  to  embark  for  Sitka. 

As  the  steamer  slowly  gets  ready  to  depart,  one 
notices  what  in  the  excitement  had  previously  escaped 
notice,  —  the  grooved  and  polished  rocks,  at  least  a 
thousand  feet  up  the  mountain  side,  indicating  how  high 


A   WEEK   IN   ALASKA.  247 

the  glacier  must  have  been  formerly.  A  century  ago 
Glacier  Bay  was  not  navigable,  and  according  to  Indian 
tradition  the  Muir  Glacier  has  receded  five  miles  in  three 
generations  ;  but  this  need  not  alarm  tourists,  as  it  still 
has  a  reserve  to  last  a  few  thousand  years  longer.  On 
leaving  Glacier  Bay  we  were  so  fortunate  as  to  see  the 
giants  Crillon  and  Fairweather  outlined  against  a  per- 
fectly clear  sky,  illuminated  by  one  of  the  most  gor- 
geous sunsets  I  have  ever  seen,  and  the  glories  of  which 
did  not  fade  till  ten  o'clock.  It  is  a  superb  mountain 
group,  bearing  a  distant  resemblance  to  the  Monch- 
Eiger-Jungfrau  group,  as  seen  near  Miirren,  which 
Mr.  Tyndall  does  not  stand  alone  in  regarding  as  the 
finest  in  Switzerland. 


XVI. 
ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

ADVANTAGES    OF     AN     AUTUMNAL     TRIP ENGLISH     ASPECT 

OF      VICTORIA  VANCOUVER    A     "  BOOM     TOWN  "  THE 

FRAZER  RIVER  AND  CANON EAGLE  PASS REAPPEAR- 
ANCE OF  THE  COLUMBIA  RIVER MOUNTAIN-SIDE  FOR- 
ESTS    COMPARISON  WITH  SWITZERLAND  CONSTRUC- 
TION OF  SNOW-SHEDS  —  BANFF  AND  THE  NATIONAL 

PARK  THE      BOW       RIVER DEVIL'S       HEAD       LAKE  

SULPHUR    MOUNTAIN WINNIPEG    AND    LAKE    SUPERIOR. 

THE  dense  smoke  from  forest  fires,  which,  by  obscur- 
ing the  grand  mountain  scenery  of  Oregon  and  Wash- 
ington during  July  and  August,  so  often  makes  summer 
travel  in  those  States  an  illusion  and  a  disappointment, 
also  extends  into  British  Columbia,  as  far  east  as  Banff, 
the  Canadian  National  Park,  sometimes  called  the 
Yellowstone  Park  of  Canada.  Tourists  who,  on  their 
return  from  Alaska,  wish  to  proceed  to  the  East  via 
the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway,  will  therefore  do  well  to 
postpone  this  trip  till  after  the  middle  of  September, 
unless  there  have  been  some  heavy  rains  earlier  to  put 
out  the  fires  and  lay  the  smoke.  Rain  on  the  coast 
means  snow  in  the  mountains,  and  no  one  need  be  told 
that  half  the  beauty,  grandeur,  and  apparent  height  of 
the  three  great  mountain  chains  which  this  railroad 
traverses,  depends  on  a  new  cloak  of  magnifying  snow. 
248 


ACROSS  THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  249 

And  an  autumnal  trip  has  this  further  advantage,  that 
the  foliage  along  the  banks  of  the  upper  Columbia  River 
will  wear  its  most  brilliant  tints  of  red  and  gold,  which 
constitute  one  of  the  greatest  charms  of  this  tour,  con- 
trasting delightfully  with  the  snow-capped  peaks  on 
every  side. 

Although  Vancouver  is  really  the  Pacific  terminus 
of  this  Canadian  railroad,  the  project  of  making  Vic- 
toria the  terminus  by  building  bridges  over  the  chain 
of  islands  which  in  some  places  almost  connect  the 
mainland  with  Vancouver's  Island,  having  been  aban- 
doned, Victoria  practically  remains  the  starting-point; 
for  a  boat  leaves  tins  city  early  in  the  morning  to  con- 
nect with  the  daily  east-bound  train ;  and  most  tourists 
make  it  a  point  to  spend  a  day  in  the  capital  of  British 
Columbia  before  starting,  not  only  because  Victoria  is 
interesting  on  account  of  its  fine  location,  but  because 
here  many  Americans  for  the  first  time  get  a  glimpse  of 
English  life.  For  Victoria  is  English  to  the  backbone, 
—  as  English  as  Montreal,  or  more  so,  because  the  sim- 
ilarity of  the  climate  of  Vancouver's  Island  to  that  of 
Southern  England  (due  to  the  effects,  respectively,  of 
the  Japan  Current  and  the  Gulf  Stream)  enables  the 
English  in  this  Pacific  city  to  surround  their  houses  as 
at  home,  with  fine  lawns  and  trees,  and  gardens  in  which 
flowers  are  in  bloom  all  the  year  round,  snow  being 
almost  as  unknown  as  in  Southern  California.  Built 
on  gently  undulating  ground,  —  such  as  is  characteristic 
of  old  England,  —  the  very  location  of  Victoria  differs 
from  that  of  the  "  American  "  cities  on  the  Sound,  with 
their  sloping  hills  and  precipices.  Nor  are  the  streets 
laid  out  with  the  geometrical  regularity  so  universal  in 
the  United  States.  The  ladies  on  horseback,  the  nu- 


250  ACROSS  THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

merous  churches,  the  animated  streets  on  Saturday  even- 
ing, the  abundant  beef  markets,  the  pirated  American 
novels  in  the  book-stalls,  the  substantial  appearance  of 
the  houses  and  many  other  things  remind  one  of  the 
fact  that  here  we  are  in  America  indeed,  but  not  in  the 
United  States.  But  the  most  utterly  utter  anglicism 
in  Victoria  is  the  fact  that  if  you  want  to  leave  a  valise 
or  parcel  at  the  steamship  office  or  elsewhere,  you  get 
no  check  or  receipt  for  it,  but  have  to  rely  on  the  re- 
ceiver's memory  to  see  that  no  one  else  carries  it  off.  At 
the  present  rate  of  progress  it  will  take  another  century 
or  two  to  get  the  idea  of  a  numbered  brass  check,  so 
simple,  rapid,  and  convenient,  through  the  British  skull. 
After  inspecting  the  sights  of  Victoria,  including 
Chinatown  and  the  naval  station  at  Esquimalt,  we  seek 
our  cabin  on  the  elegant  steamer  which  leaves  very 
early  in  the  morning  for  Vancouver.  The  parting 
whistles  wake  us  up,  and  for  a  while  we  gaze  at  the 
scenery  from  our  bed,  through  the  window.  The  shores 
are  here  more  mountainous  and  higher  than  in  Puget 
Sound,  and  gradually,  indeed,  the  scenery  becomes  so 
Alaskan  in  character  that  we  jump  out  of  bed  and  dress 
hastily  at  this  unseemly  hour,  lest  we  miss  some  fine 
effects ;  and  well  it  is  that  we  did  so,  for  straight  ahead 
are  some  superb  mountain  forms  which  look  coal-black 
in  the  dim,  semi-foggy  atmosphere.  The  island  of  Van- 
couver (three  hundred  miles  in  length,  with  moun- 
tains nine  thousand  feet  in  height,  and  still  largely 
unexplored)  gradually  disappears  in  the  distance,  and 
the  city  of  Vancouver,  on  the  mainland,  comes  into 
view.  Its  location  reminds  one  again  of  Tacoma  or 
Seattle,  and  in  other  respects,  too,  this  brand-new  city 
seems  much  more  American  than  Victoria.  While 


ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN   PACIFIC.  251 

Victoria,  as  a  town,  was  incorporated  almost  thirty 
years  ago  (1862),  and  has  grown  steadily  to  its  pop- 
ulation of  twelve  thousand,  Vancouver  is  a  "boom 
town  "  of  the  most  ultra-American  fashion.  In  1886, 
its  site  was  a  dense  forest,  and  to-day  it  has  a  population 
of  ten  thousand  —  a  growth  almost  equal  to  that  of 
Tacoma,  and  for  similar  reasons,  —  Oriental  trade,  lum- 
ber, fisheries,  etc.  Subsidized  steamers  run  hence  every 
few  weeks  to  Japan,  China,  and  Australia ;  and  this 
circumstance  alone  would  sufiice  to  make  of  Vancouver 
a  city  which  will  run  a  close  race  with  Seattle  and 
Tacoma. 

A  European  could  hardly  be  made  to  believe  that 
this  city  of  ten  thousand  had  grown  up  in  four  years  in 
the  midst  of  a  gloomy  forest  of  firs.  What  strikes  the 
observer  is  not  so  much  the  number  of  the  buildings  as 
their  appearance,  —  solid,  substantial  granite  and  brick 
buildings  four  to  five  stories  high,  and  many  of  them 
of  real  architectural  merit  and  individuality,  —  buildings 
such  as  are  usually  only  seen  in  cities  of  one  hundred 
thousand  inhabitants.  But  this  anomaly  will  disappear 
in  a  few  years  with  the  growth  of  the  city,  together 
with  the  still  more  striking  anomaly  presented  by  the 
numerous  blackened  stumps  which  still  stand  every- 
where between  the  superb  stone  buildings,  as  no  one 
has  had  time  yet  to  remove  them.  Usually  clearings 
are  made  for  wheatfields  by  farmers,  but  here  the  forest 
was  cleared  away  for  a  metropolis — and  in  the  eager 
hurry  the  stumps  were  left  standing. 

A  striking  peculiarity  of  Vancouver  is  the  very  large 
size  and  number  of  windows,  both  in  public  buildings 
and  private  residences,  —  evidently  suggested  by  the 
necessity  of  getting  as  much  light  as  possible  during 


252  ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

the  many  cloudy  days  which  this  mountainous  region 
is  responsible  for ;  but  that  sunshine  also  is  abundant  is 
attested  by  the  fact  that  pumpkins  and  even  tomatoes 
ripen  in  the  gardens.  English  influence  is  shown  in  the 
astounding  number  of  churches  already  built,  and  others 
in  process  of  erection.  Everybody  carries  a  prayer-book 
on  Sundays,  and  all  the  stores  are  closed.  Finally,  men- 
tion must  be  made  of  the  fact  that  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Railway  has  built  here  a  magnificent  hotel,  equal  in  every 
respect  to  the  fine  Tacoma  Hotel  built  some  years  ago  by 
the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad,  and  to  the  new  Hotel  Port- 
land in  Oregon's  chief  city.  The  scenery  embraces  the 
Cascade  range,  with  Mt.  Baker,  the  Olympic  mountains, 
and  the  peaks  of  Vancouver  Island ;  and  the  city  has 
good  wharfage,  water,  and  electric  light.  With  such 
advantages  it  will  continue  to  eat  its  way  rapidly  into 
the  dense  surrounding  forest. 

The  Frazer  River,  almost  as  widely  famed  as  the  Co- 
lumbia for  its  abundant  salmon  and  its  superb  scenery, 
enters  the  Sound  about  ten  miles  from  Vancouver,  at 
New  Westminster,  which  had  hoped  to  be  the  terminus 
of  the  railway,  but  now  has  to  content  itself  with  being 
the  headquarters  of  the  salmon-canning  and  lumber 
export  trade.  It  is  connected  by  a  branch  road  with 
New  Westminster  Junction,  a  station  on  the  transconti- 
nental road,  and  is  reached  at  13.30  o'clock  by  our  train 
which  had  left  Vancouver  at  12.45.  The  Canadian 
Pacific  Railway  has  very  sensibly  adopted  the  custom 
of  naming  the  hours  from  noon  to  midnight,  13  to  24 
o'clock.  Passengers  unused  to  this  method  need  only 
subtract  12  from  those  figures  to  feel  at  home;  and  after 
a  day  or  two,  20  o'clock  will  seem  as  natural  to  them  as 
8  P.M.  Nor  is  this  the  only  thing  in  which  this  Cana- 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  253 

dian  road  could   teach   our  American   roads  a  useful 
lesson,  as  we  shall  see  later  on. 

After  leaving  Vancouver,  and  before  reaching  West- 
minster, the  train  for  some  time  runs  along  Burrard 
Inlet,  on  which  is  situated  Fort  Moody,  another  town 
which  had  hoped  to  be  chosen  as  terminus,  and  actually 
did  enjoy  that  privilege  for  a  short  time.  The  shores 
of  the  Inlet  are  beautifully  wooded,  and  some  of  the 
trees  are  of  enormous  size.  At  the  crossing  of  Stave 
River  a  fine  view  is  obtained  of  Mt.  Baker,  looking  for- 
ward to  the  right,  and  the  bridge  over  the  Harrison 
River,  where  it  meets  the  Frazer,  also  affords  a  pic- 
turesque view.  For  the  next  fifteen  or  sixteen  hours 
the  train  follows  the  banks  of  the  Frazer  River  and  its 
tributaries,  and  this  is  one  of  the  grandest  sections  of 
the  route.  At  the  first  the  Frazer  is  a  muddy,  yellow 
river,  about  the  size  of  the  Willamette  above  Oregon 
City,  but  more  rapid  and  winding,  and  an  occasional 
steamer  may  be  seen  floating  along  with  the  current,  or 
slowly  making  headway  against  it.  In  some  places  the 
railway  runs  so  close  to  the  precipitous  bank  of  the 
river  that  a  handkerchief  might  be  dropped  from  a  car 
window  into  the  swirling  eddies  fifty  feet  below.  At 
other  places  it  leaves  room  —  and  just  room  enough  — 
for  the  old  wagon  road  between  the  track  and  the  river ; 
but  it  would  take  a  cool  driver,  with  much  confidence 
in  his  horses,  to  remain  on  his  wagon  here  when  a  train 
passes.  At  last  the  road  itself  becomes  frightened  and 
crosses  the  river  on  a  bridge,  whereupon  it  winds  along 
the  hill-side  above  the  opposite  bank,  at  a  safe  distance. 
This  road  was  made  during  the  Frazer  River  gold 
excitement  in  1858,  when  twenty-five  thousand  miners 
flocked  into  this  region,  and  wages  for  any  kind  of  work 


254  ACEOSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

were  ten  to  eighteen  dollars  a  day.  To-day  the  metal  no 
longer  exists  in  what  white  men  consider  paying  quan- 
tity; but  Chinamen  may  still  be  seen  along  the  river 
washing  for  remnants,  their  earnings  being  about  fifty 
cents  a  day.  There  is  also  a  "  Ruby  Creek "  in  this 
neighborhood,  and  some  Indian  habitations,  and  salmon- 
fishing  places.  Shortly  before  reaching  Yale,  which  for 
a  long  time  was  the  western  end  of  the  road,  there  is  a 
slight  intermission  in  the  scenic  drama,  represented  by 
some  rich,  level,  agricultural  lands  —  as  if  to  give  the 
passengers  a  moment's  rest  before  the  wonders  of  the 
Frazer  Canon  begin  to  monopolize  their  bewildered 
attention  till  darkness  sets  in  and  drops  the  curtain 
on  the  superb  panorama. 

Yale,  which  is  so  completely  shut  in  by  high,  frowning 
mountain  walls  on  every  side  that  the  sun  touches 
the  village  only  during  part  of  the  day,  has  lost  its 
importance  since  it  ceased  to  be  a  terminus,  and  seems 
at  present  to  be  inhabited  chiefly  by  Indians  and  half- 
breeds.  The  train  is  invaded  by  a  bevy  of  half-breed 
girls  with  baskets  of  splendid  apples  and  pears,  which 
could  not  be  beaten  for  size  and  flavor  in  any  of  our 
States,  and  indicate  a  possible  use  for  these  mountain 
regions  in  the  future.  And  now  the  train  plunges  into 
the  midst  of  the  series  of  terrific  gorges  which  consti- 
tute the  Frazer  Canon,  and  which  make  this  railway 
literally  the  most  gorge-ous  in  the  world.  Here  were 
appalling  engineering  difficulties  to  overcome,  which  no 
private  corporation  without  the  most  liberal  government 
support  could  have  undertaken.  Yet  the  builders  had 
to  be  thankful  even  for  this  wild  and  rugged  canon  dug 
out  by  the  Frazer  River,  without  which  the  Cascade 
range  would  have  been  impassable.  The  palace  cars  of 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  255 

the  Canadian  Pacific,  which  contain  all  the  best  features 
of  the  Pullman  cars,  with  home  improvements,  have  a 
special  observatory,  with  large  windows,  at  the  end  of 
the  train,  whence  the  canon  should  be  viewed ;  but  to 
see  it  at  its  best  one  must  sit  on  the  rear  platform,  so 
as  to  see  at  the  same  time  both  of  the  wild  and  precipi- 
tous canon  walls,  between  which  the  river  rushes  along 
as  if  pursued  by  demons.  At  every  curve  you  think 
the  gorge  must  come  to  an  end,  but  it  only  grows  more 
stupendous,  and  the  river,  lashed  into  foam  and  fury, 
dashes  blindly  against  the  rocks  which  try  to  arrest  its 
course.  These  rocks,  ten  to  thirty  feet  wide  and  some- 
times twice  as  long,  form  many  pretty  little  stone  islands 
in  the  middle  of  the  torrent,  and  are  a  characteristic 
feature  of  the  canon  scenery.  Numerous  tunnels,  resem- 
bling those  on  the  Columbia  River,  are  built  through 
arches  seemingly  projecting  over  the  river.  The  train 
plunges  into  them  recklessly,  but  always  comes  out 
fresh  and  smiling  on  the  other  side,  although  it  seems 
that  if  the  bottom  of  the  tunnel  should  by  any  chance 
drop  out,  the  train  would  be  precipitated  into  the  river 
below. 

Once  in  a  while  the  river  takes  a  short  rest,  and  in 
these  comparatively  calm  stretches  hundreds  of  beauti- 
ful large  red  fish  can  be  seen  from  the  train,  in  the  clear 
water,  struggling  up  stream.  With  their  dark  backs 
and  bright  red  sides  they  form  a  sight  which  is  none  the 
less  interesting  when  you  are  told  that  they  are  "only 
dog-salmon,"  which  are  not  relished  by  whites,  though 
the  Indians  eat  them. 

The  train  stops  for  supper  at  North  Bend,  and  here 
we  are  once  more  impressed  with  the  fact  that  although 
we  are  in  America,  we  are  not  in  the  United  States. 


256  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

At  our  own  stations,  as  soon  as  the  train  stops,  there  is 
a  grand  rush  for  the  dining-room,  the  waiters  dump 
half-a-dozen  small  dishes  before  each  passenger,  who 
attacks  them  nervously,  with  one  eye  on  the  door  and 
his  ears  pricked  up  for  the  bell.  It  would  be  useless  to 
extend  the  dining-time  more  than  fifteen  or  twenty 
minutes,  for  in  five  minutes  most  of  the  small  dishes 
are  empty  and  in  ten  or  twelve  minutes  not  a  soul  is 
left  at  the  tables,  though  the  restaurateur  has  called  out 
repeatedly,  "  Plenty  of  time,"  "  Departure  of  the  train 
will  be  announced.'* 

How  differently  they  manage  things  on  British  soil ! 
There  passengers  sit  down,  unfold  their  napkins  lei- 
surely, while  the  waiter-girl  brings  on  the  soup.  There 
is  a  regular  menu,  of  so  many  courses,  each  of  which  is 
brought  on  separately.  The  conductor,  after  disposing 
of  his  share  of  the  feast,  waits  at  the  door  till  the  last 
passenger  has  of  his  own  free  will  left  the  table,  picking 
his  teeth,  and  then  calls  out  "  All  aboard."  Time,  forty- 
five  minutes;  and  at  other  stations  similar  scenes  are 
enacted,  with  never  less  than  half  an  hour  for  a  meal. 
Yet  the  train  is  always  on  time. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  it  is  not  very  difficult  to  be 
on  time  when  the  average  speed  for  the  first  day  is  only 
seventeen  miles  an  hour.  There  is  danger  from  the 
boulders  which  may  roll  on  the  track  from  the  steep 
canon  sides,  and  occasionally  you  see  a  sign  along  the 
track  telling  the  engineer  to  "  Go  CAUTIOUSLY  —  FOUR 
MILES  AN  HOUR."  All  the  dangerous  ground,  how- 
ever, is  covered  by  walkers,  who  go  over  the  track  an 
hour  before  each  passenger  train. 

During  the  night  east-bound  passengers  will  inevi- 
tably miss  the  fine  scenery  along  the  Thompson  River, 


ACROSS  THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  257 

with  the  Thompson  and  Black  canons ;  but  it  should 
be  stated  that  the  time-table  in  both  directions  has  been 
so  arranged  that  the  best  part  of  the  route  is  traversed 
in  the  daytime ;  and  that  consequently  no  radical 
change  will  perhaps  ever  be  made.  Passengers  who  are 
willing  to  get  up  at  six  may  still  see  part  of  the  Thomp- 
son River  and  get  some  fine  views  of  Shuswap  Lake  as 
the  train  skirts  its  shores.  Here,  obviously,  would  be 
the  place  for  lovers  of  sport  to  get  off,  for  vast  flocks 
of  ducks  and  geese  rise  from  the  water  as  the  train 
rushes  past.  About  ten  o'clock  the  train  arrives  at 
Craigellachie,  which  is  notable  as  the  spot  where  the 
rails  from  the  east  and  west  met,  and  where  the  last 
spike  on  this  great  continental  road  was  driven  in,  on 
November  7, 1885. 

Scenic  wonders  now  succeed  one  another  with  be- 
wildering rapidity  throughout  the  day.  This  second 
day,  in  fact,  represents  the  climax  of  the  trip,  and  the 
attention  is  not  allowed  to  flag  for  a  second.  However 
much  such  a  confession  may  go  against  the  grain  of 
patriotism,  every  candid  traveller  must  admit  that  there 
is  nothing  in  the  United  States  in  the  way  of  massive 
mountain  scenery  (except  perhaps  in  Alaska)  to  compare 
with  the  glorious  panorama  which  is  unfolded  on  this 
route.  Within  thirty-six  hours  after  leaving  Vancouver 
we  traverse  three  of  the  grandest  mountain  ranges  in 
America,  —  the  Cascades,  Selkirks,  and  Rockies,  —  all  of 
them  the  abode  of  eternal  snow  and  glaciers,  and  all  of 
them  traversed  through  by  canons  which  vie  with  each 
other  in  terrific  grandeur. 

Before  the  Selkirks  are  reached  the  train  passes  the 
Columbia  or  Gold  range,  through  the  Eagle  Pass,  so 
called  because  it  was  discovered  by  watching  an  eagle's 


258  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

flight.  Eagle  Pass  is  a  poetic  and  appropriate  name,  and 
yet  I  think  it  would  be  well  to  re-name  this  mountain 
pass  and  call  it  Mirror  Lake  Canon,  because  that  would 
call  the  attention  of  tourists  to  what  is  its  most  char- 
acteristic feature,  which  may  otherwise  be  overlooked. 
There  are  four  lakes  and  many  smaller  bodies  of  water 
in  this  valley,  in  whose  placid  surface  the  finely  sloped 
mountain  ridges  and  summits  of  the  pass  are  reflected 
with  marvellous  distinctness,  so  that  here,  as  in  the 
Yosemite  Mirror  Lake,  the  copy  is  more  lovely  than  the 
original.  Some  of  the  mountain  sides  reflected  in  these 
mirrors  are  naked  rocks,  others  are  covered  with  living 
evergreen  trees,  and  others  still  with  dead  trees.  In 
the  mirror  these  dead  forests  look  hardly  less  beautiful 
than  the  living  ones ;  but  in  the  original  the  eye  dwells 
with  more  pleasure  on  the  green  forests  which  here, 
and  almost  everywhere  in  British  Columbia,  grow  with 
the  rank  luxuriance  of  a  Ceylon  jungle.  The  soil  under 
these  dense  tree-masses,  consisting  of  decayed  pine  and 
fir  needles,  a  foot  deep  and  always  moist,  makes  a 
paradise  for  lovely  mosses  and  ferns.  Here,  also,  is  the 
home  of  the  bear,  and  one  would  not  have  to  walk  far 
in  this  thicket  to  encounter  a  grizzly,  black,  or  cinnamon 
bruin. 

On  emerging  from  the  Mirror  Lake  Canon,  a  great 
surprise  awaits  the  passengers.  The  Columbia  River — 
to  which  they  had  fancied  they  had  said  a  final  farewell 
when  they  were  ferried  across  it  on  the  way  from  Port- 
land to  Tacoma — suddenly  comes  upon  the  scene  again, 
as  clear  and  as  picturesque  as  ever;  and  even  at  this 
immense  distance  from  its  mouth  still  large  enough  to 
require  a  bridge  half  a  mile  long  to  cross  it.  A  few 
hours  later  the  train  again  crosses  the  Columbia,  at 


ACKOSS   THE  CANADIAN   PACIFIC.  259 

Donald,  where  the  river  has  become  much  smaller  than 
it  seems  that  it  should  in  such  a  short  distance.  To  get 
an  explanation  of  this  circumstance,  it  is  interesting  to 
glance  at  the  map,  and  notice  what  an  immense  curve 
northward  the  Columbia  has  made  in  this  interval  in 
order  to  find  a  passage  through  the  Selkirk  range  ;  and 
in  thus  encircling  the  snowy  Selkirks  it  has,  of  course, 
added  to  its  volume  the  contents  of  innumerable  glacier 
streams  and  mountain  brooks.  Its  real  sources  are 
southeast  of  Donald,  on  the  summit  of  the  Rockies, 
separated  by  but  a  short  distance  from  springs  which  run 
down  on  the  eastern  side  and  find  their  way  through  the 
Mississippi  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Thus  do  extremes 
meet.  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  anything  so  curious 
in  the  course  of  any  other  river  as  this  immense,  irreg- 
ular parallelogram  which  the  Columbia  here  describes 
from  its  sources  to  Arrow  Lake. 

Fortunately,  railroad  builders  are  not  quite  as  depend- 
ent as  rivers  on  deep  canons  for  getting  over  mountain 
barriers ;  hence  our  train  is  not  obliged  to  follow  the 
Columbia  in  its  great  sweep  around  the  Selkirks,  but 
proceeds  comparatively  straight  across  this  range  towards 
the  Rockies  proper,  via  the  Albert  Canon,  at  an  elevation 
of  2845  feet,  in  which  the  train  makes  a  brief  stop  to 
enable  passengers  to  look  down  into  a  flume  in  which 
the  river,  narrowed  by  the  walls  to  twenty  feet,  rushes 
along  three  hundred  feet  directly  beneath  them. 

The  snow-peaks  of  the  Selkirks  are  now  looming  up 
on  all  sides,  and  the  atmosphere  becomes  more  bracing 
and  Alpine  as  the  train  slowly  creeps  up  the  mountain 
side,  doubling  up  on  itself  in  a  loop.  The  Glacier 
House  is  reached  before  long,  and  here  every  tourist 
who  has  time  to  spare  should  get  off  and  spend  a  day 


260  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN   PACIFIC. 

or  two,  since  next  to  Banff,  in  the  National  Park,  this 
is  the  finest  point  along  the  whole  route,  seenically 
speaking,  while  the  air  is  even  more  salubrious,  cool, 
and  intoxicating  than  at  Banff,  owing  to  the  nearness 
of  the  glacier.  It  would  be  difficult,  even  in  Switzer- 
land, to  find  a  more  romantic  spot  for  a  hotel  than  the 
location  of  the  Glacier  House.  High  peaks  rise  up  on 
every  side,  so  finely  moulded,  so  deeply  mantled  with 
snow,  and  presenting  such  various  aspects  from  different 
points  of  view,  that  we  "forget  our  disgust  at  the  fact 
that,  as  usual  in  the  West,  these  grand  eternal  peaks 
have  been  named  after  ephemeral  mortals,  —  Browns, 
Smiths,  and  Joneses.  The  Grizzly  and  Cougar  moun- 
tains are  more  aptly  named,  as  these  animals  will  long 
continue  to  abound  in  the  impenetrable  forests  which 
adorn  these  peaks  below  the  snow-line.  Looking  from 
the  hotel  towards  the  glacier,  to  the  left  is  a  peak 
which  looks  like  the  Matterhorn,  the  most  unique  moun- 
tain in  Switzerland ;  and  what  is  still  more  striking,  at 
its  side  is  another,  smaller  peak,  which  is  an  exact  copy 
of  the  Little  Matterhorn. 

The  greater  part  of  the  Selkirk  region  is  still  entirely 
unexplored ;  and  good  mountain  climbers  who  scorn  to 
reascend  the  Swiss  peaks,  which  have  long  since  all 
been  measured,  named,  and  labelled,  may  here  have 
their  pick  of  first  ascents.  But  they  will  miss  the  con- 
veniences of  the  Swiss  Alps, — well-informed  guides, 
and  hotels  with  all  modern  conveniences.  Not  even  a 
satisfactory  map  has  existed  heretofore,  and  an  English- 
man, W.  S.  Green,  who  published  a  book  called  "  Among 
the  Selkirk  Glaciers  "  (1890)  was  obliged  to  make  his 
own  map  which  is  added  to  his  volume.  It  is  tan- 
talizing to  read  of  Alpine  paradises,  "  which  no  being 


ACROSS  THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  261 

higher  than  a  bear  had  entered  before  "  Mr.  Green  and 
his  companion,  and  of  "  a  perfect  ocean  of  peaks  and 
glaciers,"  etc.,  which  they  could  see  on  elevated  points. 
Who  knows  but  that  a  hundred  years  hence  there  will 
be  as  many  visitors  to  the  Selkirks  every  summer  as 
now  crowd  into  Switzerland? 

The  Glacier  Hotel  will  always  remain  a  popular 
point,  because  it  is  so  near  a  great  glacier  of  almost 
Alaskan  dimensions.  It  is  only  about  a  mile  thence  to 
the  foot  of  the  glacier,  which  has  the  moraine  of  huge 
boulders,  the  gaping  crevasses,  the  stream  at  the  end, 
and  all  the  other  accessories  of  ice-rivers.  At  noon,  on 
a  warm  day,  when  the  ice  melts  rapidly,  the  roar  of  the 
glacial  stream  can  be  distinctly  heard  far  away ;  but  as 
the  sun  sinks  lower,  the  water  flows  more  scantily,  and 
at  night  the  brook  is  silent  or  merely  whispers. 

The  principal  difference  between  the  Swiss  Alps  and 
the  Selkirk  range  lies  in  the  aspect  of  the  mountain 
sides  below  the  snow-line.  These,  in  Switzerland,  are 
green  meadows  dotted  with  browsing  cows  ;  while  here 
they  consist  of  superb  forests  of  giant  cedars,  with  bears 
in  place  of  cows,  and  presenting  one  unbroken  mass  of 
dark  green,  except  where  an  avalanche  has  tobogganed 
down  and  opened  what  seems  at  a  distance  like  a  road- 
way, but  is  found  to  be  a  battle-field  strewn  with  the 
corpses  of  cedars  three  and  four  feet  in  diameter. 

The  most  imposing  view  of  such  a  mountain  forest, 
unbroken  by  a  single  avalanche  path,  is  obtained  from 
the  snow-sheds  just  above  the  hotel.  Sitting  outside 
these  sheds  and  looking  toward  the  left,  you  see  a 
vast  mountain  slope  covered  with  literally  millions  of 
dark  green  trees.  Why  has  none  of  the  world's  great- 
est poets  ever  been  permitted  to  gaze  on  such  a  Selkirk 


262  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN   PACIFIC. 

forest,  that  he  might  have  aroused  in  his  unfortunate 
readers  who  are  not  privileged  to  see  one,  emotions 
similar  to  those  inspired  by  it?  But  I  fear  that  neither 
verse  nor  photographs,  nor  even  the  painter's  brush,  can 
ever  more  than  suggest  the  real  grandeur  of  such  a 
forest  scene.  This  mountain  is  not  snow-crowned  in 
September,  but  its  wooded  summit  makes  a  sharp  green 
line  against  the  snow-peaks  beyond  and  above.  From 
this  summit  down  to  the  foot  stand  the  green  giant 
cedars,  as  crowded  as  the  yellow  stalks  in  a  Minnesota 
wheatfield.  But  in  place  of  the  flat  monochrome  of  a 
wheatfield,  our  sloping  forest  presents  a  most  fascinat- 
ing color  spectacle.  The  slanting  rays  of  the  sun  tinge 
the  waving  tree-tops  with  a  deeply  saturated  yellowish 
green,  curiously  interspersed  with  a  mosaic  of  dark, 
almost  black  streaks  and  patches  of  shade,  due  to  clouds 
and  other  causes,  and  the  whole  edged  by  the  dazzling 
snow. 

If  we  descend  and  enter  this  forest,  a  cathedral-like 
awe  thrills  the  nerves.  Daylight  has  not  the  power  to 
penetrate  to  the  ground  hidden  by  this  dense  mass  of 
tree-tops  rising  two  hundred  to  three  hundred  feet  into 
the  air  —  except  that  an  occasional  ray  of  sunlight  may 
steal  in  for  a  second,  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  And 
the  carpet  on  which  this  forest  stands !  In  America  we 
rarely  see  a  house,  even  of  a  day-laborer,  without  a  car- 
pet :  why,  then,  should  these  royal  trees  do  without  one  ? 
The  carpet  is  itself  a  miniature  forest  of  ferns  and 
mosses,  luxuriating  in  riotous  profusion  on  an  ever-moist 
soil,  the  products  of  thousands  of  generations  of  pine 
needles.  Nor  is  this  carpet  a  monochrome,  for  the  green 
is  varied  by  numerous  berries  of  various  kinds,  most  of 
which  are  red,  as  they  should  be  —  the  complementary 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  263 

color  of  green.  But  there  are  also  acres  of  blueberries  as 
large  as  cherries ;  and  if  you  will  tear  off  a  few  branches 
of  these  and  bring  them  to  the  young  bear  chained  up 
near  the  Glacier  Hotel,  he  will  be  very  grateful,  and 
you  will  find  it  amusing  to  watch  him  eating  them. 

There  is  music,  too,  in  this  Forest  Cathedral,  which  is 
heard  to  best  advantage  from  the  elevated  gallery 
occupied  by  the  snow-sheds.  It  takes  a  trained  ear  to 
distinguish  the  steady,  rippling  staccato  sound  of  a 
snow-fed  mountain  brook  from  the  prolonged  legato 
sigh  of  a  pine  forest,  swelling  to  fortissimo,  and  dying 
away  by  turns.  In  the  romantic  spot  we  have  chosen, 
these  sounds  are  blended,  the  music  of  the  torrents  be- 
ing caught  up  by  the  sloping  forest  as  by  a  huge  sound- 
ing-board, and  increased  in  loudness  by  being  mingled 
with  the  mournful  strains  of  the  tree-tops,  as  orchestral 
colors  are  blended  by  modern  masters.  Those  err  who 
say  there  is  no  music  in  nature.  It  is  not  in  "  Siegfried  " 
alone  that  the  Waldweben  is  musical,  that  leaves  sing  as 
well  as  birds,  while  the  thunder  occasionally  adds  its 
loud  basso  prof  undo. 

The  assthetic  exhilaration  which  we  owe  to  these 
poetic  sights  and  sounds  is  intensified  by  the  salubrious 
breezes  which  waft  this  music  to  our  ears.  Born  among 
the  clouds  and  glaciers,  they  are  perfumed  in  passing 
across  the  forests,  warmed  by  the  sun's  rays  in  passing 
over  the  valley ;  and  every  breath  of  this  elixir  adds  a 
day  to  one's  life.  It  is  not  surprising  that  mountains 
should  make  the  best  health  resorts ;  for  do  they  not 
themselves  understand  and  obey  the  laws  of  health? 
They  keep  their  heads  cool  under  a  snow-cap,  their  feet 
warm  in  a  mossy  blanket,  and  their  sides  covered  with  a 
dense  fir  overcoat. 


264  ACROSS  THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

In  comparing  the  Alpine  scenes  of  British  Columbia 
with  those  of  Switzerland,  I  should  have  noted  one 
more  advantage  in  favor  of  the  former,  namely,  the 
rows  and  groups  of  giant  cedars  through  the  spaces 
between  which  glimpses  of  the  snow  ridges  and  peaks, 
and  of  the  green  slopes  leading  up  to  them,  are  caught. 
This  always  adds  a  lovely  frame  to  the  picture,  and 
gives  infinite  variety.  Even  the  stumps  and  fallen 
trees  in  the  foreground,  whether  they  are  the  result  of 
an  avalanche  or  left  there  by  the  builders  of  the  rail- 
road, add  an  element  of  wildness  and  desolation  which 
harmonizes  better  with  Alpine  scenery  than  meadows, 
cows,  and  dairy  huts. 

But  we  must  not  linger  too  long  at  the  Glacier  House 
and  amid  the  Selkirks,  for  another  range  of  the  Rockies, 
equally  grand,  awaits  us  beyond.  I  have  mentioned 
the  curve  on  which  the  snow-sheds  are  built,  just  above 
the  hotel,  whence  such  a  fine  view  of  peaks  and  forests 
is  to  be  obtained.  We  who  have  been  able  to  stop  over 
a  day  have  had  time  to  enjoy  this  view  at  leisure. 
But  those  who  are  unable  to  interrupt  their  journey 
would  have  missed  one  of  the  finest  sights  in  America 
had  it  not  been  for  the  most  commendable  wisdom  and 
liberality  which  prompted  the  builders  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific  Railroad  to  construct  a  second  track  outside  of 
the  snow-sheds,  which  is  used  in  summer,  so  that  every 
passenger  can,  for  a  moment  at  least,  feast  his  eyes  on 
this  incomparable  scene.  Of  all  commendable  features 
of  the  Canadian  road  which  I  have  had  occasion  to 
praise,  this  one  most  merits  imitation  on  some  of  our 
"American"  railways,  unless  an  exception  be  the  de- 
lightfully convenient  "  Time-Table,"  in  form  of  a  forty- 
four  page  booklet,  which  is  given  free  to  passengers, 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  265 

and  which  contains  brief  notes  on  all  the  stations  and 
principal  scenic  points,  while  the  hour  at  which  the 
train  arrives  at  each  is  printed  in  the  margin,  both  for 
east-bound  and  for  west-bound  trains. 

On  passing  the  snow-sheds  it  is  interesting  to  study 
their  appearance  and  note  with  what  an  apparently  lav- 
ish waste  of  timber  they  have  been  constructed.  But 
it  must  be  remembered  that  timber  is  more  than  abun- 
dant here,  and  that  the  trees  that  had  to  be  cut  down  to 
make  room  for  the  track  more  than  sufficed  for  all  the 
sleepers,  sheds,  and  other  protective  bulwarks  against 
snow,  landslides,  or  avalanches.  The  log-remnants,  lying 
about  on  both  sides  of  the  track,  will  soon  be  covered 
with  mosses  and  ferns  and  add  a  new  element  of  loveli- 
ness to  the  scene.  And  there  is  another  way  in  which 
the  railway  atones  to  the  vegetable  kingdom  for  the 
damage  caused  by  passing  through  the  forests.  As  the 
train  speeds  along,  its  suction  whirls  into  the  air,  like 
snowflakes,  the  light-winged  seeds  ripening  along  the 
track ;  and  thus  it  becomes  a  great  distributer  of  herbs 
and  flowers. 

Twenty  minutes  after  leaving  the  Glacier  House 
the  train  reaches  its  highest  point  on  the  Selkirks, — 
4275  feet.  Then  the  descent  begins,  and  we  leave 
the  vicinity  of  the  glaciers,  though  the  snow-peaks  that 
give  rise  to  them  continue  for  hours  to  gladden  the 
sight.  What  had  seemed  more  or  less  isolated  peaks 
near  by,  are  now  seen  to  be  merely  the  highest  points 
of  a  vast  conglomeration  of  mountain  ridges,  which 
are  thrown  into  ever-new  groups  as  the  train  winds 
along  the  mountain  sides.  In  rapid  succession  several 
bridges  are  passed,  built  over  brooks  several  hundred 
feet  below.  To  the  right,  far  below  us,  is  a  long, 


266  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN   PACIFIC. 

narrow  valley,  painted  a  mellow  golden  yellow  by  the 
setting  sun  (it  sets  here  at  three) ;  and  winding  through 
it  is  the  Beaver  River,  which  from  this  height  looks  as 
small  as  if  it  were  seen  through  an  inverted  spy-glass. 
Glimpses  of  the  Rockies  are  now  caught,  and  at  16.45 
o'clock  Donald  is  reached,  where  we  once  more  cross 
the  Columbia,  which  starts  out  hence  for  its  grand 
curve  around  the  Selkirks.  The  river  here  is  about  as 
large  as  the  Rhine  at  Schaffhausen,  and  yet  the  passen- 
gers discover  to  their  amazement  that  even  here  it  is 
navigable,  and  that  if  they  wish  to  make  a  hundred- 
mile  trip,  which  is  said  to  equal  in  grandeur  any  part 
of  the  Columbia  River,  they  need  only  stop  over  at 
Golden  City,  two  hours  beyond  Donald,  and  take  the 
small  weekly  boat  which  runs  from  that  station  up  the 
river,  charging  six  dollars  for  the  round  trip.  Golden 
City  owes  its  name  to  a  former  mining  excitement,  but 
its  present  appearance  suggests  that  Golden  Fizzle 
would  be  a  more  appropriate  name. 

For  the  greater  part  of  the  two  hours  which  the  train 
requires  to  go  from  Donald  to  Golden  City  it  passes 
along  the  bank  of  the  Columbia  River;  and  there  is, 
perhaps,  no  part  of  the  whole  route  where  grandeur  and 
beauty  are  so  admirably  united  as  here,  especially  in  the 
autumn.  The  grandeur  lies  in  the  snowy  summits 
which  frame  in  this  Columbia  valley  —  the  Selkirks  on 
one  side,  the  Rockies  on  the  other.  The  beauty  lies  in 
the  river  itself  and  in  the  young  trees  and  bushes  along 
its  banks,  dressed  in  fall  styles  and  colors,  some  as 
richly  yellow  as  a  golden-rod,  others  as  deeply  purple  or 
crimson  as  fuchsias  or  begonias,  the  yellow  predomi- 
nating. These  colored  trees  occur  in  groups  and  streaks 
along  the  river,  and  in  isolated  patches  on  the  mountain 


ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  267 

sides,  where  they  might  be  mistaken  for  brown  mosses 
or  lichen-covered  rocks.  There  may  be  as  beautifully 
colored  trees  in  our  Eastern  forests,  but  they  are  not 
mixed,  as  here,  with  young  evergreen  pines,  nor  have 
they  a  framework  of  snow-mountains,  like  these,  to 
enhance  their  beauty.  High  up  on  the  ridges  there  is 
another  variety  of  trees  of  a  beautiful  russet  color  set 
off  by  a  deep  blue  sky.  Talk  of  color  symphonies ! 
Here  they  are  —  miles  of  them  —  long  as  a  Wagner 
trilogy,  and  as  richly  orchestrated!  Even  the  masses 
of  blackened  logs  and  stumps  —  if  one  can  set  aside  for 
a  moment  all  thought  of  pity  for  the  poor  charred  trees, 
so  happy  before  the  fire  in  their  green  luxuriance,  and 
of  the  sad  waste  of  useful  timber  —  enhance  the  charm 
of  this  scene  by  contrast. 

I  have  said  that  the  time-table  of  the  Canadian  Pacific 
Railway  is  so  arranged  that  the  finest  scenery  is  passed  in 
daylight,  in  both  directions ;  but  of  course  there  must  be 
exceptions,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  as  long  as  the  road 
crosses  the  three  great  mountain  ranges  of  the  Cascades, 
Selkirks,  and  Rockies,  there  is  hardly  a  mile  which  does 
not  offer  something  worth  seeing.  Consequently,  as 
darkness  again  closes  in  soon  after  leaving  Golden,  east- 
bound  passengers  must  resign  themselves  to  lose  sight 
of  the  Kickinghorse  Canon,  the  Beaverfoot  and  Otter- 
tail  mountains,  the  large  glacier  on  Mt.  Stephen,  etc., 
—  which  is  all  the  more  provoking  as  they  have  to  sit 
up  anyway  till  midnight,  when  Banff  is  reached;  for 
of  course,  every  tourist  who  is  in  his  right  senses  and 
not  a  slave  to  duty  gets  off  here  to  spend  a  few  days  in 
the  Canadian  National  Park. 

It  was  Goethe,  I  believe,  who  spoke  somewhere  of  the 
pleasure  of  arriving  at  a  place  famed  for  its  beauty,  in 


268  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

the  darkness  of  night,  thus  reserving  for  the  morning 
hours,  when  our  senses  are  refreshed  by  sleep,  the  first 
impressions  of  the  scenery.  Passengers  who  have  not 
"  read  up  "  on  the  subject,  would  little  imagine,  as  the 
midnight  coach  takes  them  to  the  Canadian  Pacific  Rail- 
way Hotel,  as  it  is  called,  that  they  are  in  some  of  the 
finest  mountain  valleys  in  the  world,  and  that  the  hotel 
itself  is  as  picturesquely  perched  on  top  of  a  hill  as  any 
castle  on  the  Rhine.  But  no  castle  on  the  Rhine  boasts 
a  view  comparable  to  that  which  is  spread  before  them 
in  the  morning.  The  best  place  to  enjoy  it  is  in  the 
open  rotunda  built  behind  the  hotel,  just  over  the  preci- 
pice. Far  below,  the  clear  and  rapid  Bow  River  winds 
along  in  graceful  curves,  forming  on  the  left  a  series 
of  turbulent  cascades  terminating  in  a  fall  which  is 
visible  from  the  rotunda,  though  of  course  at  this  dis- 
tance less  effective  than  from  the  river-bank.  Below 
the  falls  the  river  hastens  on  in  the  direction  of  the 
Peechee  Mountain,  which  forms  the  boundary  wall  of 
the  valley  east  of  the  hotel  and,  with  the  wide  ridge  on 
the  right,  is  the  most  interesting  sight  in  the  whole  Park. 
This  ridge  seldom  presents  the  same  appearance  on  suc- 
cessive days,  and  hardly  two  photographs  of  it  are  alike, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  the  melting  snow,  after  a  storm, 
constantly  stripes  and  mottles  it  in  different  patterns. 
Though  the  ridge,  which  is  several  thousand  feet  wide, 
seems  to  be  absolutely  perpendicular,  the  snow  still 
clings  to  it  and  paints  it  white,  except  in  one  section, 
near  the  summit,  where  a  black,  snowless  streak  runs 
across  horizontally,  dividing  the  snow-wall  into  two 
sections. 

To  the  right  of  the  hotel   are   some   sharp-pointed 
peaks   inclining   over   each   other,  somewhat  like   the 


ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  269 

Three  Brothers  in  the  Yosemite  Valley,  "  playing  leap- 
frog " ;  and  to  the  left  is  the  massive  Cascade  Mountain. 
The  most  important  excursions  for  those  whose  time  is 
limited  to  a  day,  are  a  trip  by  boat  up  the  Bow  River, 
as  far  as  Vermilion  Lake,  in  the  morning,  and  a  drive 
to  Devil's  Head  Lake  in  the  afternoon. 

The  Bow  River  excursion,  which  is  made  on  a  little 
steam-launch  whenever  a  party  is  ready  for  it,  has  only 
one  drawback,  —  the  ugly,  bristling  corpses  of  charred 
pines  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  the  effects  of  a  recent 
most  deplorable  forest  fire.  Arrangements  have  been 
made  with  lumbermen  for  the  removal  of  these  charred 
trunks,  but  it  will  take  years  to  finish  the  job,  as  there 
are  thousands  of  them.  Fortunately  there  is  already 
a  new  undergrowth,  and  in  a  few  years  the  vigorous 
young  trees  will  have  covered  up  the  stumps.  In  many 
places,  however,  the  green  trees  have  been  spared,  and 
in  these  sections  matchless  views  of  the  surrounding 
mountains  may  be  obtained  through  the  loveliest  green 
foregrounds.  Winding  about  as  it  does,  the  Bow  River 
shows  all  the  mountains  included  in  the  Park,  and 
many  others,  with  endless  changes  of  the  point  of  view 
and  grouping.  Among  the  most  imposing  peaks  two 
will  be  specially  impressed  on  the  memory,  —  Mt.  Edith, 
a  sharp,  bare,  rocky  formation,  apparently  inaccessible, 
and  the  extremely  interesting  Copper  Mountain,  shaped 
like  a  heart,  whose  two  sides,  as  seen  from  the  upper 
Bow  River,  are  surprisingly  symmetrical.  In  the  centre 
is  a  rocky  projection  of  a  regular  shape. 

There  are  a  few  shallow  places  where  one  can  see 
logs  and  dead  trees  lying  at  the  bottom  ;  but  generally 
the  small  river  is  wonderfully  deep,  so  that  it  seems 
more  like  the  arm  of  a  lake  than  a  mountain  stream. 


270  ACEOSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

Below  the  falls,  however,  it  becomes  too  shallow  and 
turbulent  for  navigation,  and  this  suggests  the  theory 
that  the  cascades  and  falls  were  caused  by  a  landslide, 
or  rather  a  rockslide,  which  blocked  up  the  river  and 
deepened  the  part  above  this  obstruction. 

The  water  of  the  Bow  River  comes  direct  from  the 
Rocky  Mountain  glaciers  and  springs,  and  is,  therefore, 
as  clear  as  a  crystal,  and  if  you  want  a  delicious  drink, 
you  need  only  dip  your  cup  into  the  water  and  help 
yourself.  What  a  boon  such  a  copious  mountain 
stream,  free  from  the  faintest  suspicion  of  microbes, 
would  be  near  a  large  city !  There  are  fish  in  this 
water,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  wild  ducks  can  be 
seen  swimming  about  on  it  every  day,  from  the  hotel 
rotunda.  The  part  of  the  river  below  the  falls  is  also 
well  worth  a  visit.  The  Spray  River,  almost  as  wide 
as  the  Bow,  and  even  more  turbulent,  enters  the  Bow 
just  below  the  falls;  and  for  those  who  are  fond  of 
listening  to  the  music  and  the  babble  of  brooks,  a 
finer  spot  than  this  could  not  be  found.  Below  the 
bridge,  over  the  Spray,  is  a  mountain  side  rapidly 
crumbling  away,  and  here  a  stone  avalanche  may  be 
heard  and  seen  every  five  minutes.  All  around  are 
groups  and  groves  of  straight,  slender  mountain  poplars, 
with  smooth,  pale  olive  bark  and  golden  autumn  leaves. 
There  is  something  fresh  and  delightfully  healthy  in 
the  appearance  of  these  young  mountain  trees,  sugges- 
tive of  trout  bred  in  icy  brooks.  It  is  impossible  to 
walk  a  hundred  steps  without  being  arrested  by 
the  really  thrilling  beauty  of  these  tree-groups,  —  the 
blackish  green  pines  encircling  the  poplars  and  birches, 
whose  leaves  are  resplendent  in  the  deepest  dyes, 
representing  their  transition  from  fresh,  light  green, 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN   PACIFIC.  271 

through  a  dozen  shades  of  greenish  yellow,  till  a  deep 
golden  yellow  is  attained  as  the  climax.  While  the 
leaves  are  mostly  yellow,  the  numerous  kinds  of  ber- 
ries— bunchberries,  mountain-ash,  sweet-brier,  etc. — are 
red,  and  one  of  the  most  exquisite  bits  of  color  is  con- 
tributed by  the  scarlet  leaves  of  the  wild  gooseberry. 
The  berries  of  the  sweet-brier  are  much  larger  than  in 
Oregon,  though  the  bushes  are  only  a  foot  in  height, 
while  in  Oregon  they  are  eight  to  ten,  and  with  their 
thousands  of  roses  or  berries  form  a  most  lovely  sight. 

Forest  symphonies  like  these  are  also  to  be  seen  in 
abundance  on  the  way  to  Lake  Minnewonka,  better 
known  as  Devil's  Head  Lake.  An  excellent  carriage 
road  has  been  constructed  by  the  government,  the  dis- 
tance being  nine  miles.  For  the  most  part  the  road 
runs  along  the  foot  of  precipitous  palisade-like  moun- 
tains, in  measuring  which  the  famous  Hudson  River 
palisades  might  be  used  as  a  yard-stick,  or  standard  of 
measure.  These  mountain  sides  are  beautifully  striped 
and  mottled  with  snow,  in  a  manner  that  seems  to  be 
peculiar  to  this  region,  and  is  repeated  on  a  still  grander 
scale  on  the  steep  canon  walls  which  form  the  sides  of 
Lake  Minnewonka.  Before  reaching  the  lake,  a  most 
imposing  range  of  the  Rockies  —  a  wild  jumble  of  snow- 
peaks  —  is  seen  on  the  right,  beyond  the  river.  Alto- 
gether, this  drive  to  the  lake  is  one  of  the  finest  in  the 
world,  and  the  lake  itself  forms  a  fitting  climax.  It  is 
a  curiosity  among  mountain  lakes,  being  fourteen  miles 
long  and  only  one  to  two  miles  wide,  both  its  sides 
being  steep  and  beautifully  formed  mountains.  It  might 
in  fact  be  described  as  a  canon  filled  with  a  lake  —  as  the 
Yosemite  Valley  is  supposed  to  have  been  at  one  time. 
Its  average  depth  is  only  forty  feet,  but  owing  to  its 


272  ACROSS   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

peculiar  oblong  shape  and  its  vertical  sides,  it  is  greatly 
subject  to  mountain  "  draughts,"  which  are  likely,  with- 
out a  moment's  notice,  to  assume  the  form  of  wild  and 
sudden  squalls.  In  the  morning  the  surface  of  the  lake 
forms  a  perfect  mirror  of  the  surrounding  peaks,  and  at 
certain  hours  and  states  of  the  wind  it  is  tinted  with 
the  most  exquisite  shades  of  green,  blue,  purple,  and 
violet.  In  this  surface  iridescence  it  resembles  Lake 
Tahoe;  but  in  another  respect  there  is  a  remarkable 
difference  between  these  two  lakes ;  for  although  Tahoe 
has  an  altitude  of  almost  two  thousand  feet  above 
Minnewonka,  and  is  also  surrounded  by  snow-moun- 
tains, its  waters  never  freeze,  even  though  the  snow  on 
its  shores  be  ten  feet  high;  while  the  Canadian  lake 
does  freeze  to  a  depth  of  two  to  four  feet  in  February, 
and  then  forms  an  admirable  surface  for  ice-boats  and 
for  skating.  The  lake  is  full  of  large  trout  which  are 
still  quite  abundant,  as  they  were  not  fished  for  till 
about  four  years  ago. 

The  government  is  so  proud  of  this  lake  that  it  has 
appointed  a  keeper  to  prevent  it  from  being  stolen. 
He  keeps  an  inn  on  the  end  nearest  to  Banff,  and  he 
says  that  so  far  the  best  catch  made  by  a  tourist  in  one 
day  was  eighteen  trout,  weighing  seventy-eight  pounds. 
The  Vanderbilt  party,  in  1889,  caught  one  weighing 
twenty-eight  pounds,  and  in  1888  the  keeper  said  that 
he  and  the  cook  caught  one  weighing  fifty-three  pounds, 
which  was  probably  served  cum  grano  salis.  (Please 
remember  that  I  am  merely  repeating  what  was  told  to 
me.)  The  incident  will  probably  recall  to  the  reader 
the  story  of  the  heathen  whose  budding  faith  was 
nipped  when  a  missionary  told  him  the  story  of  Jonah 
and  the  whale.  "When  it  comes  to  fish  stories,"  he 


ACKOSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  273 

remarked  subsequently  to  a  friend,  "no  one  can  be 
trusted."  I  must  add,  however,  in  justice  to  the  keeper, 
that  a  fifty-three-pound  mountain  trout,  abstractly  con- 
sidered, is  not  impossible.  Very  large  hooks  are  used 
to  pull  these  lake  trout  in,  and  though  they  cannot  be 
young,  their  firm  pink  flesh  is  of  delicious  flavor  and  not 
at  all  toughened  by  age.  The  keeper  sneered  at  those 
tourists  who  come  from  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad 
Hotel,  and  fish  from  noon  to  five  o'clock,  —  a  time  when 
no  self-respecting  trout  will  bite,  —  and  then  go  away 
growling  that  there  are  no  fish  in  the  lake.  He  also 
said  that  there  was  at  present  no  road  around  the  lake, 
except  an  Indian  trail,  but  that  a  road  was  projected, 
as  was  the  placing  of  a  small  steamboat  on  the  lake. 

Besides  the  drive  to  this  lake  (which  passes  through 
the  village  of  Banff,  about  a  mile  from  the  hotel), 
there  are  other  excellent  roads  in  several  directions, 
notably  those  to  the  Lower  and  the  Middle  and  Upper 
Sulphur  Springs.  The  Canadian  National  Park  bases 
its  claim  to  the  attention  of  the  travelling  public  on  the 
curative  properties  of  its  sulphur  springs  quite  as  much 
as  on  its  scenic  attractions.  On  approaching  the  Lower 
Springs,  the  fumes  bring  back  memories  of  Yellowstone 
Park,  as  do  the  curious,  gray,  brittle  stones  and  the 
aspect  of  the  soil.  Bathers  can  have  their  choice  of  a 
subterranean  plunge  in  a  dimly  lighted  grotto  or  cave, 
which  might  have  been  the  abode  of  a  mountain  nymph, 
or  in  an  open  pool,  framed  in  by  the  bath-house  on  one 
side,  and  on  the  other  by  rocks,  from  which  the  plunge 
may  be  made.  The  temperature  of  the  grotto  is  80°; 
of  the  open  pool,  92°.  In  the  latter  the  hot  water  bub- 
bles up  from  a  hole  in  the  bottom,  and  the  boys  dive 
down,  put  an  arm  into  it,  and  bring  up  a  handful  of 


274  ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

very  coarse-grained  quicksand.  Hours  can  be  agreeably 
spent  here,  and  the  sulphur  odor  is  not  unpleasantly 
noticeable ;  but  after  the  bath  one  smells  for  hours  like 
a  walking  parlor-match.  In  front  of  the  bath-house  is 
a  fountain,  the  water  in  which  is  so  strongly  impreg- 
nated that  soap  cannot  be  used  in  washing  in  it:  yet 
the  ice  which  forms  on  it  in  winter  is  pure  from  all 
mineral  matter.  Animals  are  fond  of  this  water.  I 
saw  a  dog  drink  it  (in  Oregon  I  saw  a  dog  drinking 
sea-water,  for  that  matter),  and  the  keeper  of  the  bath- 
house says  that  the  cows  and  horses  often  come  up  from 
the  valley  to  drink  it,  although  there  is  abundant  pure 
water  below. 

The  Middle  and  Upper  Sulphur  Springs  are  farther 
up  the  same  mountain — appropriately  named  Sulphur 
Mountain.  The  carriage  road,  three  and  one-half  miles 
long,  passes  through  a  dense  jungle  of  young  pines,  no 
thicker  than  birches,  crowded  like  Chinese  in  a  tenement 
house,  and  therefore  looking  lugubrious  and  unhealthy. 
Most  of  these  will  have  to  be  smothered  in  the  struggle 
for  existence,  before  the  strongest  ones  can  get  breath- 
ing-room enough  to  develop  into  full-grown  trees.  The 
silence  of  a  mountain  forest  reigns  here,  rendered  audi- 
ble by  the  faint,  distant  babble  of  the  Bow  and  Spray 
rivers.  We  pass  by  the  road  which  leads  off  to  the 
Middle  Springs,  and  soon  reach  the  Upper  Springs, 
around  which  half-a-dozen  bath-houses  are  grouped, 
whose  favorite  sign-board,  or  trade-mark,  is  a  pair  of 
crutches  suspended  from  a  tree,  with  this  notice  at- 
tached: "I  came  here  with  these,  and  left  without 
them."  A  few  yards  above  these  huts  the  water  can 
be  seen  gushing  out  of  the  mountain  side  in  a  strong 
current,  and  so  hot  that  one  can  hardly  hold  his  hand 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN   PACIFIC.  275 

in  it  — 110  to  116°.  These  baths  are  supposed  to  be  good 
for  rheumatism  and  skin  and  blood  diseases.  I  met  an 
old  miner  here  who  has  hunted  gold  on  four  continents, 
and  who  entertained  me  with  stories  of  his  adventures 
in  Alaska,  and  how  he  "  blew  up  "  Mr.  Muir  for  mak- 
ing such  a  fuss  over  Glacier  Bay,  where  the  glaciers 
were  mere  pygmies  compared  with  some  that  he  had 
come  across  on  his  prospecting  tours  in  the  interior. 
He  had  offered  to  guide  Mr.  Muir  to  these,  but  the 
professor  seemed  to  be  afraid  of  the  hardships  and 
perils,  and  refused  to  go ;  whereat  our  miner  was  still 
so  indignant  that  he  threatened  that  if  he  had  more 
skill  in  using  the  pen,  he  would  write  to  the  Eastern 
papers  and  expose  him  as  a  fraud.  He  said  that  he 
was  going  back  to  Alaska  as  soon  as  cured,  because 
he  believes  there  is  untold  wealth  in  that  country,  and 
added  that  if  any  "  literary  feller "  from  New  York 
wanted  to  accompany  him,  he  would  guarantee  him 
material  for  a  book  that  would  make  Eastern  people's 
hair  curl. 

From  the  Upper  Springs  the  hotel  can  be  reached  by 
means  of  a  short-cut  footpath  through  the  dense  woods, 
following  the  flume  which  carries  the  sulphur  water 
down  to  the  hotel.  It  is  used,  of  course,  only  for  special 
bathing  purposes ;  but  all  the  water  seems  here,  as  in 
the  Yellowstone  Park,  to  be  impregnated  with  traces 
of  sulphur:  for  if  you  wash  with  soap  and  leave  the 
water  in  the  basin  over  night,  curds  will  be  found  in  it 
in  the  morning ;  and  in  the  men's  wash-room  there  are 
yellow  streaks  in  the  marble  basins,  where  the  water 
runs  into  them.  Sulphur  water  is  supposed  to  be  good 
for  the  stomach,  but  I  have  on  several  occasions  found 
it  to  be  just  the  opposite. 


276  ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN   PACIFIC. 

The  Central  Pacific  Railroad  Hotel  has  electric  lights 
in  every  room,  and  is  well  managed,  and  its  terms  reason- 
able. For  those  who  have  to  study  economy,  there  are 
smaller  inns  and  a  sanitarium  not  far  from  the  hotel, 
with  a  few  stores  and  a  row  of  tents. 

Summing  up  on  the  Canadian  National  Park,  we 
may  say  that  it  has  not  so  many  natural  wonders  as  the 
Yellowstone  Park,  —  no  geysers,  steam-holes,  gold-bot- 
tomed rivulets,  paint-pots,  nor  anything  to  place  beside 
the  Yellowstone  Canon  and  Falls.  But  the  Minne- 
wonka  Lake  may  fairly  challenge  comparison  with  the 
Yellowstone  Lake,  and  the  mountain  scenery  is  grander 
in  the  Canadian  Park,  and  the  snow  and  glaciers  are 
nearer,  though  not  so  near  as  at  the  Glacier  House, 
where  the  air  is  in  consequence  cooler  and  more  bracing 
in  summer  than  even  at  Banff.  As  the  Canadian  Park 
is  only  twenty-six  miles  long  and  ten  wide,  while  the 
Yellowstone  Park  is  about  sixty-two  by  fifty-four  miles, 
the  former  can  be  seen  in  much  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  do  justice  to  the  latter. 

When  we  get  ready  to  leave  Banff  we  have  to  take 
the  midnight  train,  so  there  is  no  chance  to  say  good 
by  to  the  mountains.  But  we  have  seen  so  much  of 
them  since  leaving  Vancouver,  that  we  have  felt  almost 
tempted  to  cry  out  to  Nature,  "Hold,  enough — less 
would  be  more ! "  Now  we  get  ample  opportunity  to 
ruminate  in  peace  over  our  crowded  impressions.  "When 
we  get  up  we  are  on  the  prairie  ;  we  go  to  bed  in 
the  prairie,  after  traversing  a  territory  larger  than  a 
European  kingdom;  again  we  rise  on  the  prairie,  and 
again  go  to  bed  on  it;  and  not  till  Lake  Superior  is 
approached  does  the  scenery  once  more  become  inter- 
esting. There  is  little  local  traffic  west  of  Winnipeg, 


ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC.  277 

towns  being  few  and  far  between.  A  dining-car  is 
attached  to  the  train,  and  on  the  following  day  is 
replaced  by  another.  The  train  makes  a  bee-line  for 
Winnipeg,  as  there  are  no  more  "loops"  to  climb 
mountain  sides  on,  no  more  puffing  engines  pulling  in 
front  and  pushing  behind,  no  more  noisy  bridges  and 
trestle-works  to  cross.  We  are  moving  along  at  the 
rate  of  half  a  thousand  miles  a  dtfy,  yet  the  view  is 
always  the  same,  varied  only  by  the  sight  'of  buffalo 
tracks,  —  the  autographs  of  departed  herds,  —  a  few 
coyotes,  and  some  begging  squaws  with  their  pappooses 
at  the  stations  —  only  this  and  nothing  more,  except 
the  prairie  itself,  on  which  it  is  said  a  rider  who  sets 
out  on  a  day's  journey  can  see  before  starting  the  place 
where  he  will  be  in  the  evening.  The  train  stops  a  few 
hours  at  Winnipeg,  where  some  of  the  passengers  use 
this  first  opportunity  to  branch  off  to  the  United  States ; 
then  on  we  speed  again  over  the  prairie.  There  is  an 
occasional  stretch  of  dark,  ploughed  soil  in  the  distance, 
which  causes  you  to.  look  twice  to  make  sure  that  it  is 
not  the  ocean;  and  when  finally  the  train  suddenly 
plunges  into  a  tunnel,  you  are  almost  as  much  startled, 
after  all  this  prairie  monotony,  as  if  an  Atlantic  steamer 
on  the  way  to  Liverpool  took  you  through  a  tunnel ;  in 
fact,  you  are  at  first  disposed  to  fancy  that  this  tunnel 
had  been  artificially  created  by  the  engineers  as  a 
practical  joke  on  the  passengers.  It  is  only  a  prelude, 
however,  to  the  Lake  Shore  scenery,  which,  with  the 
wild  rocks  and  cliffs  on  one  side,  and  an  occasional 
glimpse  of  the  lake  on  the  other,  forms  one  of  the  most 
fascinating  fifty  miles  of  the  whole  road.  Instead  of 
going  along  this  north  shore  of  Lake  Superior  in  a  wide 
curve,  passengers  have  the  option  of  taking  the  steamer 


278  ACROSS   THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC. 

from  Port  Arthur  to  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  and  thence  rejoin- 
ing the  transcontinental  road. 

As  a  general  thing,  it  is  no  doubt  wiser  to  take  the 
Canadian  Pacific  Railway  westward  than  eastward,  as 
the  scenic  climax  is  on  the  western  side.  However,  it 
is  quite  possible  to  avoid  the  feeling  of  anticlimax  on 
going  east,  if  we  conclude  the  trip  with  the  Thousand 
Islands  and  the  Rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  together 
with  Montreal ;  or  with  Niagara  Falls  and  the  Hudson 
River.  The  Pacific  slope  no  doubt  is  scenically  far 
more  attractive  than  the  Atlantic  ;  still,  there  are  some 
things  in  the  East  which  even  California  would  be 
proud  to  add  to  her  attractions. 


XVII. 
THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 

AN   INDEPENDENT   JOURNEY  ON   HORSEBACK GEYSERS    AND 

PAIHT-POTS WAITING  FOR  AN  ERUPTION YELLOWSTONE 

CANON  AND   FALLS THE  LAKE  AND   ITS  TROUT A   TENT 

HOTEL MYSTERIOUS    SOUNDS. 

• 

LIKE  all  the  other  transcontinental  railroads,  the 
Northern  Pacific  has  its  grandest  scenery  on  the  western 
half  of  its  course.  On  the  eastern  section,  between 
Livingston  and  St.  Paul,  the  train  traverses  monotonous 
prairies,  suggestive  of  the  ocean,  but  less  exhilarating, 
on  account  of  the  dust,  and  less  uncertain  and  exciting, 
and  with  only  a  few  prairie  dogs,  herds  of  cattle,  grain- 
fields,  and  ugly  little  villages  to  vary  the  view  from  the 
car  windows.  But  on  its  western  section  there  is  the 
magnificent  scenery  of  the  Cascade  Division,  with  Mt. 
Tacoma,  or,  for  those  starting  east  from  Portland,  the 
romantic  Columbia  River  route.  As  both  of  these  have 
been  described  at  length  in  preceding  chapters,  we  can 
here  pass  at  once  to  what  is  the  climax  of  the  Northern 
Pacific  route  —  the  Yellowstone  Park,  although  refer- 
ence must  be  made  in  passing  to  the  rare  beauty  of 
Lake  Pend  D'Oreille,  the  shores  of  which  the  train 
skirts  for  hours.  At  Livingston  the  tourist  leaves  his 
comfortable  Pullman  and  takes  the  branch  road,  which 

279 


280  THROUGH   YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

in  a  few  hours  lands  him  at  Cinnabar,  where  stages  have 
to  be  taken,  as  no  railway  is  allowed  within  the  limits 
of  the  Yellowstone  Park. 

This  little  branch  railroad  reminded  me  of  some  of 
the  so-called  "  passenger  trains  "  in  Southern  Europe. 
For  slowness  it  would  certainly  get  the  first  prize  at 
a  national  exhibition  of  time-tables.  "Gentlemen,"  I 
once  heard  a  conductor  exclaim,  as  he  entered  the  wait- 
ing-room of  a  railway  station  in  Southern  Germany,  — 
"  Meine  Herren,  hurry  up  with  your  beer ;  it  is  time  to 
start."  But  local  color  varies.  On  the  Yellowstone 
Road  the  train  was  stopped  for  ten  minutes  in  one  place 
to  leave  a  box  of  merchandise  in  the  middle  of  a  field, 
and  to  dispose  of  a  bucketful  of  buttermilk  which  a  nut- 
brown  maiden  had  brought  there  for  the  trainmen  and 
passengers ;  and  shortly  afterwards  the  train  was  again 
stopped,  apparently  because  the  engineer  had  espied  a 
couple  of  prairie-chickens  on  the  hillside.  He  pursued 
them  with  his  revolver,  bagged  one  of  them,  and  after 
that  the  train  stubbornly  proceeded  to  its  destination, 
notwithstanding  the  polite  request  of  one  of  the  passen- 
gers to  the  conductor  to  stop  until  he  had  caught  a 
string  of  trout  in  the  adjacent  Yellowstone  River.  A 
week  later,  when  I  returned  over  the  same  road,  the 
train  stopped  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  one  place 
while  the  conductor,  engineer,  and  brakeman  amused 
themselves  with  a  game  of  base-ball. 

The  gateway  through  which  the  train  enters  the  fer- 
tile Paradise  Valley  and  the  National  Park  is  bounded 
east  and  west  by  lofty  mountains,  on  which,  however, 
only  a  few  specks  of  snow  remained  in  the  first  week  of 
August.  Indeed,  throughout  the  Park  I  saw  much  less 
snow  than  the  guide-book  had  led  me  to  expect;  bat 


THROUGH   YELLOWSTONE   PARK.  281 

for  this  an  uncommonly  warm  summer  may  have  been 
responsible.  Yet  even  without  snowy  summits  the  Yel- 
lowstone mountains  are  picturesque,  and  must  appear 
sublime  to  those  who  have  never  been  in  Switzerland. 
In  ruggedness  and  grotesqueness  of  outline  they  are 
unrivalled,  and  the  colors  are  often  unique,  the  rocks 
being  sometimes  so  white  that  they  present  the  appear- 
ance of  slightly  discolored  snow,  such  as  is  seen  in  the 
lower  portions  of  glaciers;  and  this  partly  atones  for 
the  absence  of  real  snow. 

After  a  dusty  stage  ride,  lasting  several  hours,  and 
very  much  uphill,  the  passengers  are  landed  at  the 
Mammoth  Springs  Hotel,  where  a  fair  supper  and  good 
beds  await  them.  Although  this  hotel  is  conveniently 
located  near  the  foot  of  the  remarkable  many-storied, 
snow-white  terrace-mound,  built  by  the  calcareous  de- 
posits of  the  hot  springs,  and  adorned  with  the  most 
brilliant  colors,  its  site  is  nevertheless  badly  chosen ; 
for  there  is  no  view  from  either  the  front  or  back  win- 
dows, or  from  the  piazza ;  whereas,  if  the  building  had 
been  erected  only  a  few  hundred  yards  to  the  front, 
visitors  might  have  enjoyed  an  extensive  and  delightful 
mountain  view  on  all  sides.  This  error  is  possibly 
responsible,  to  a  large  extent,  for  the  fact  that  fewer 
visitors  than  had  been  expected  make  this  large  hotel 
their  home  for  a  week  or  two.  With  the  exception  of 
that  at  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin,  all  the  Yellowstone 
Park  hotels  are  placed  in  like  manner,  though  in  each 
case  a  picturesque  situation  might  have  been  found 
within  a  short  distance.  Perhaps  the  builders  calcu- 
lated that  visitors,  after  their  wearisome  stage  ride  of 
forty  or  fifty  miles  and  a  subsequent  brief  inspection  of 
the  geysers,  would  hardly  look  upon  the  hotels  as  any- 


282  THROUGH   YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

thing  else  than  a  place  for  providing  them  with  meals 
and  beds. 

Having  been  apprised  of  the  disadvantages  to  which 
those  who  take  the  regular  round  trip  by  stage  in  five 
days  are  subjected,  I  concluded  to  see  the  Park  in  a 
more  leisurely  manner,  and  hired  a  saddle-horse  for  a 
week  at  the  rate  of  two  dollars  and  a  half  a  day,  to 
which  one  dollar  and  a  half  a  day  was  added  for  taking 
care  of  the  horse  at  the  several  stations ;  thus  making 
the  expense  about  the  same  as  it  would  have  been  if  I 
had  taken  the  regular  forty-dollar  coupon  ticket,  which 
includes  fare  and  hotels  for  five  days.  They  seem 
to  have  great  faith  in  human  nature  in  Wyoming ;  for  I 
was  allowed  to  take  away  my  horse  without  leaving  a 
deposit,  and  even  without  being  asked  my  name  !  On 
entering  the  Park,  an  officer  rode  up  and  requested 
me  to  register,  explaining  that  all  persons  entering  pri- 
vately were  asked  to  leave  their  names,  and  state  how 
long  they  intended  to  stay,  as  a  precautionary  measure 
against  violations  of  the  laws  relating  to  hunting  and 
forest  fires.  These  regulations,  with  others,  are  printed 
on  linen  and  conspicuously  posted  along  the  road  every 
few  miles,  so  that  no  one  can  plead  ignorance  of  the  law. 
Scattered  throughout  the  Park  are  also  hundreds  of 
signs  reading  "No  HUNTING,"  "EXTINGUISH  YOUR 
FIRES,"  with  others  indicating  good  places  for  camps. 
In  the  Geyser  Basins  the  principal  springs  and  geysers 
are  also  marked  by  sign-boards,  though  not  so  liberally 
as  might  be  desired.  There  should  be  more  of  them 
near  the  road  to  indicate  the  most  remarkable  spots. 
At  present  the  "paint-pots"  and  the  Gibbon  and 
Tower  falls  are  very  apt  to  be  missed  by  tourists.  Some 
of  the  sign-board^  of  the  Geyser  Basins  need  renovating. 


THKOUGH   YELLOWSTONE   PARK.  283 

At  Norris  one  of  these  attracted  my  attention;  and 
after  getting  my  eyes  within  six  inches  to  decipher  the 
obscure  inscription,  I  read  the  word  "  DANGEROUS  ! " 
These  danger  signals  ought  to  be  much  more  frequent. 
The  very  day  when  I  was  at  Norris,  a  lady  broke 
through  the  crust  near  one  of  the  springs  and  was  badly 
injured. 

Norris  Geyser  Basin  is  directly  south  of  Mammoth 
Hot  Springs,  and  is  the  place  where  the  tourist,  if 
lucky,  gets  his  first  view  of  a  geyser.  If  the  reader  has 
never  looked  at  a  map  of  the  National  Park,  he  may  get 
an  approximate  idea  of  its  topography  by  bearing  in 
mind  that  the  principal  curiosities  are  so  placed  as  to 
form  a  parallelogram.  The  road  first  leads  south  from 
Mammoth  Springs  to  the  four  geyser  basins,  —  Norris, 
Lower,  Midway,  and  Upper ;  then  east  to  the  Lake ; 
then  north  to  the  Falls  and  Grand  Canon,  and  over 
Mt.  Washburn,  to  Yancey's ;  and  thence  back  west  to 
the  Mammoth  Springs.  The  patrons  of  the  stage  line, 
however,  miss  the  Lake  and  Mt.  Washburn,  and  are 
obliged  to  return  by  the  same  road  a  great  part  of  the 
way.  This  must  be  very  fatiguing,  as  the  road  between 
Mammoth  Springs  and  Norris  is  most  dreary  and  unin- 
teresting, being  generally  lined  on  both  sides  by  melan- 
choly wastes  of  blackened  tree  corpses  —  a  veritable 
forest  cemetery.  Now  that  fires  are  carefully  guarded 
against,  a  vigorous  undergrowth  of  young  trees  is  per- 
ceptible, which  in  time  will  obliterate  these  and  the 
many  similar  stretches  of  charred  timber. 

The  hotel  at  Norris  was  destroyed  by  fire  about  the 
middle  of  July,  1887,  and  I  arrived  just  in  time  to  be 
the  first  occupant  of  a  room  in  the  new  hotel.  In  the 
ruins  of  the  old  hotel  were  still  to  be  found  heaps 


284  THROUGH   YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

of  roast  potatoes,  hams,  and  other  meats,  and  groups 
of  molten  beer  and  wine  bottles  twisted  into  peculiar 
shapes.  Beer  and  wine,  by  the  way,  may  be  had  at-all 
these  hotels,  although  no  bars  are  allowed  within  the 
limits  of  the  Park.  The  water  throughout  this  part 
of  the  Park  is  strongly  flavored  with  sulphur  and  other 
mineral  ingredients,  and  is  apt  to  disagree  with  some 
people.  After  supper  I  went  up  the  road  for  a  mile 
to  see  the  Geyser  Basin.  The  distinguishing  charac- 
teristic of  the  Norris  Basin  is  the  many  steam-holes, 
which  send  out  uninterrupted  columns  of  steam,  with  a 
deafening  roar.  I  nave  read  of  canary-birds  who  were 
silenced  forever  after  hearing  a  mocking-bird  imitate 
and  surpass  their  song.  I  wish  all  locomotive  engineers 
could  be  sent  to  the  Norris  Basin ;  perhaps  that  would 
make  them  stop  competing  as  to  which  of  them  can 
make  night  most  hideous  with  steam-whistles.  Besides 
these  steam-holes  there  are  simple  hot  springs,  sizzling 
"  frying-pans,"  mud  geysers,  and  "  paint  pots,"  in  which 
paste  of  various  colors  is  boiling  and  blubbering.  A 
bench  has  been  placed  beside  one  geyser  which  every 
seven  minutes  sends  up  a  mass  of  liquid  mud,  splashing 
and  spluttering,  and  darting  out  arms  in  every  direc- 
tion, like  a  hideous  polyp,  until  the  frenzy  has  reached 
its  climax  and  forced  some  of  the  mud  over  the  border ; 
whereupon  the  agitation  subsides  as  gradually  as  it 
came  on,  and  the  liquid  mass  disappears  down  a  fathom- 
less hole,  where  it  compresses  the  steam  until  it  has 
gained  sufficient  volume  to  drive  the  nasty  intruder 
once  more  out  of  its  hole. 

While  I  was  watching  this  ludicrous  spectacle,  some 
of  the  workmen  who  were  building  the  new  hotel  passed 
by  and  invited  me  to  follow  them  and  see  the  "  Mon- 


THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK.  285 

arch  "  geyser  spout.  We  occupied  a  place  on  the  hill- 
side where  there  was  no  danger  that  the  wind  would 
drive  the  steam  and  hot  water  into  our  faces,  and 
waited.  The  liquid  eruption  was  due  at  eight,  but  the 
Monarch  long  refused  to  give  us  an  audience.  The 
workmen,  meanwhile,  discussed  the  news  of  the  day,  — 
the  accident  to  the  lady,  already  referred  to,  the  moral 
character  of  the  new  dish-washer,  and  the  death  of  a 
popular  saloon-keeper,  "a  splendid  fellow,  who  never 
refused  a  man  a  drink  whether  he  had  money  or  not." 
The  Monarch  awaited  this  opportunity  to  make  the 
transition  from  the  ridiculous  to  the  sublime,  and,  pre- 
cisely at  nine  o'clock,  with  hardly  any  warning,  he  shot 
up  a  hot  stream  into  the  air  a  hundred  feet  or  more,  and 
kept  it  there  for  several  minutes,  the  moon  furnishing 
just  enough  light  to  see  the  stream  of  water  amid  the 
steam.  Apres  nous  le  deluge  appeared  to  be  his  motto ; 
for  we  found  it  difficult  to  reach  the  road  again  because 
of  the  inundation  he  created  during  his  brief  activity. 
One  of  the  workmen  told  me  he  waited  for  the  erup- 
tion every  evening,  and  that  he  had  discovered  some 
springs  not  known  previously,  including  one  sourer 
than  a  lemon  (probably  sulphuric  acid).  The  number 
of  hot  springs  in  the  Park  seems,  indeed,  to  be  count- 
less. Every  day  the  tourist  comes  across  them  repeat- 
edly, often  most  unexpectedly,  and  it  seems  probable 
that  some  of  the  greatest  wonders  of  the  Park  remain 
to  be  discovered  on  the  forest-clad  hill-sides. 

Among  the  most  curious  of  the  springs  are  the  groups 
of  little  ones,  with  openings  no  larger  than  peas,  lining 
the  banks  of  the  brooks  and  roadside,  and  so  hot  that 
one  has  to  exercise  caution  in  riding  across  them. 

I  should  have  stated  that  perhaps  the  prettiest  sight 


286  THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

on  the  road  from  Mammoth  Springs  to  Norris  is  the 
frequent  patches  of  dense  grass,  ordinarily  of  a  pale 
yellowish  green  color,  but  if  seen  from  above,  facing 
the  sun,  of  the  richest  yellow,  suggestive  of  lakes  of 
liquid  gold.  More  beautiful  still  are  the  golden  rivu- 
lets which  form  the  outlets  of  some  of  the  hot  springs 
in  the  Lower  and  Upper  Geyser  Basins.  As  the  "  Foun- 
tain," the  principal  geyser  of  the  Lower  Basin,  was  at 
rest  when  I  saw  it,  I  devoted  most  of  my  time  to  admir- 
ing these  streamlets  with  their  golden  beds.  All  the 
gradations  in  color,  from  red  through  blood-orange,  and 
orange  to  pale  yellow,  are  here  to  be  seen,  the  color 
fading  out  gradually  with  the  distance  from  the  spring. 
Quite  as  beautiful  as  the  colors  themselves  are  the 
exquisite  waving  golden  lines  and  honey-comb  figures 
which  adorn  the  bottom  of  these  rills,  the  reflections  of 
the  wavelets  and  ripplets  on  the  surface  of  the  water. 
In  some  places  these  dainty  figures  are  replaced  by  rows 
of  silky  yellow  fibres  gently  undulating  with  the  move- 
ment of  the  water.  The  bottom  of  these  rills  is  not 
hard,  but  consists  of  a  soft  pulpy  mass,  in  some  places 
several  inches  deep.  This  is  fortunate ;  for  otherwise 
some  of  those  irrepressible  idiots  who  write  their  names 
even  on  the  bottoms  of  the  white  basins  into  which  the 
water  flows  from  the  geyser  craters  would  not  hesitate 
to  mar  also  the  beauty  of  these  fairy  brooks. 

The  hero  of  Midway  Geyser  Basin  is  the  "  Excelsior," 
which,  however,  has  been  quiescent  for  several  years. 
It  forms  an  immense  pool,  which,  with  some  others  and 
their  overflow,  converts  the  Basin  into  a  place  of  most 
dismal,  forbidding  aspect.  It  is  close  by  the  Firehole 
River,  which  is  lined  by  hot  springs,  one  of  which  has 
the  aspect  of  a  pigmy  water-fall,  the  spray  being  repre- 


THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE   PARK.  287 

sented  by  the  steam.  When  one  considers  the  number 
of  these  mineral  springs,  and  the  fact  that  the  Excelsior 
has  been  known  to  vomit  sufficient  hot  water  to  convert 
the  Firehole  River,  a  hundred  yards  wide,  into  "a 
foaming  torrent  of  steaming  hot  water,"  one  wonders 
no  longer  that  this  river,  like  several  others  in  the 
Park,  notwithstanding  that  its  water  is  usually  cool, 
rapid,  and  clear  as  a  crystal,  is  destitute  of  fish.  Were 
it  not  for  this  occasional  excess  of  hot  mineral  water, 
there  would  be  scores  of  places  where  a  tourist  might 
go  through  the  unique  performance  of  catching  a  trout, 
and  boiling  it  in  an  adjacent  spring,  without  moving 
from  his  place.  As  it  is,  those  who  wish  to  try  this 
curious  experiment  have  to  do  so  at  the  Gardiner  River 
or  the  Yellowstone  Lake. 

Few  of  the  unfortunate  tourists  who  are  hurried 
through  the  Park  on  the  Wakefield  stages  have  an 
opportunity  to  see  a  geyser  in  activity  till  they  arrive 
at  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin.  Here  more  than  a  dozen 
geysers  of  the  first  magnitude  are  congregated;  and 
although  some  are  very  irregular,  and  others  only  play 
at  long  intervals,  there  are  several  which  every  one 
who  remains  a  few  hours  can  see.  A  blackboard  in  the 
hotel  gives  a  list  of  the  geysers  and  their  intervals  of 
performance,  and  the  hotel  is  so  placed  as  to  command 
a  view  of  almost  the  whole  basin,  so  that,  whenever  one 
of  the  irregular  geysers  starts  up,  the  guests  may  be  at 
once  informed,  and  hasten  to  the  scene.  Fortunately, 
one  of  the  finest  geysers  in  the  basin  is  "  Old  Faithful," 
only  a  hundred  yards  from  the  hotel,  and  so-called 
because  it  spouts  once  in  sixty-five  minutes,  almost 
with  the  regularity  of  a  clock.  The  "  Grand,"  "  Castle," 
"  Beehive,"  and  "  Splendid "  geysers  are  also  certain 


288  THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK. 

to  play  for  the  benefit  of  those  who  spend  a  day  at 
the  Upper  Basin.  But  the  grandest  of  them  all,  the 
"  Giant,"  wakes  up  only  once  in  a  fortnight ;  and  unfor- 
tunately I  arrived  just  eight  hours  too  late  to  see  it. 
But  there  was  no  room  for  disappointment,  as  the  other 
geysers  afforded  more  than  enough  excitement  and  won- 
der for  a  day. 

Even  if  these  geysers  were  extinct,  it  would  be  worth 
a  visit  to  this  Basin  to  see  the  fanciful,  lofty  craters 
built  up  by  the  calcareous  deposits  of  the  hot  springs. 
No  two  geysers  appear  to  be  quite  alike  in  their  style 
of  playing.  Some  have  more  steam  mixed  with  their 
water  than  others;  some  shoot  up  a  constant  stream; 
others,  an  intermittent  one,  somewhat  like  the  various 
forms  of  rockets.  The  stream  of  the  Castle  looks 
almost  like  a  water-fall  flowing  upwards  and  vanishing 
in  mid  air;  and  the  Splendid  afforded  the  spectacle 
of  two  lovely  rainbows. 

Besides  these  exciting  geysers,  which  represent  the 
sublime,  the  Upper  Geyser  Basin  has  some  of  the  love- 
liest pools  or  springs  in  the  Park,  as  representatives  of 
pure,  placid  beauty.  Chief  among  these  are  the  "  Morn- 
ing Glory  "  and  the  "  Gem,"  —  pools  of  fathomless 
depth  filled  with  diamond  of  the  purest  water,  lined 
inside  with  the  richest,  deepest  colors,  and  with  a  "  hor- 
rid "  black  hole  at  the  bottom,  suggesting  the  entrance 
to  the  nether  regions.  Into  one  of  these  pools  a  stupid 
boy  once  threw  a  stick,  and  his  poor  dog  jumped  in 
after  it  and  was  boiled  to  pulp  in  a  few  minutes.  In 
another  was  found  the  bare  skeleton  of  an  elk,  possibly 
driven  into  it  by  pursuing  wolves,  —  a  fine  subject  for 
a  ballad. 

From  the  Upper  Basin  I  might  have  gone  straight  to 


THEOUGH   YELLOWSTONE  PARK.  289 

the  Lake ;  but  as  the  road  is  a  mere  trail  on  which  a 
horse  cannot  run,  and  the  distance  is  therefore  too  great 
to  cover  in  one  day,  I  returned  to  the  Lower  Basin, 
whence  it  was  only  about  thirty-five  miles  to  the  hotel 
camp  at  the  Lake.  With  many  tourists  it  seems  to  be 
a  moot  point  whether  it  is  worth  while  to  visit  the 
Lake  ;  and  as  few  used  to  go  there,  the  accommodations 
until  recently  were  of  a  most  primitive  kind.  There 
were  two  men  at  the  camp,  and  three  tents  —  one  for 
cooking,  one  for  eating,  and  one  to  sleep  in.  An 
Englishman  and  his  wife  were  the  only  guests  besides 
myself.  The  lady  naturally  desired  the  sleeping-tent  to 
be  made  up  into  two  separate  rooms,  and  the  "  landlord  " 
finally  submitted  to  the  extra  trouble  this  involved, 
though  afterwards  he  was  overheard  commenting  to  his 
assistant  on  "  them  fussy  English."  When  the  English 
lady  got  up  in  the  morning  to  wash,  she  found  the  towel 
had  already  been  used  by  her  husband  and  myself,  so 
she  asked  for  another.  The  assistant  replied  he  had 
already  put  out  a  fresh  towel  for  that  date,  but  after 
a  moment's  hesitation  he  decided  to  make  an  exception 
in  her  favor,  and  produced  a  second. 

For  the  season  of  1890,  however,  a  new  hotel  was 
opened,  and  boats  placed  on  the  Lake ;  and  the  tourist 
who  omits  it  makes  a  great  mistake.  Not  only  does  it 
rank  among  the  curiosities  of  the  world,  being  the  only 
lake  of  its  size  at  so  great  an  altitude  (7788  feet  above 
the  sea;  or,  as  the  guide-book  graphically  puts  it,  if 
Mt.  Washington  could  be  sunk  in  it  with  its  base  at 
sea-level,  "  its  apex  would  be  nearly  half  a  mile  below 
the  surface  of  the  lake  ")  ;  but  its  intrinsic  beauty  would 
insure  it  renown  at  any  altitude.  Snow  there  was  none 
on  the  surrounding  mountains  when  I  saw  them;  but, 


290  THROUGH   YELLOWSTONE   PARK. 

like  all  mountains,  they  gain  immensely  in  picturesque- 
ness  and  apparent  loftiness  by  being  seen  across  a  sheet 
of  water.  And  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  the  Lake  is, 
aside  from  its  surroundings;  but  it  is  treacherous,  and 
there  is  a  violent  thunder  or  wind  storm  almost  every 
morning  at  eleven.  About  six  o'clock  in  the  morning 
I  distinctly  heard  the  mysterious  rushing  sounds  in  the 
air  referred  to  in  the  guide-book  as  unexplained.  I 
suppose  they  are  due  to  the  sound  of  the  waters  dash- 
ing against  the  beach  and  borne  on  by  the  wind,  grad- 
ually accumulating  loudness.  Or  the  sounds  may  be 
due  to  the  movements  of  the  capricious  and  fitful  wind 
among  the  tree-tops.  I  repeatedly  heard  a  gust  of  wind 
approaching  in  that  way  with  a  magnificent  crescendo 
and  climax  which  a  modern  orchestra  could  hardly 
equal. 

Everybody  knows  that  the  Yellowstone  Lake  is  as 
brimful  of  trout  as  the  Columbia  River  is  of  salmon. 
But  a  general  notion  prevails  —  even  among  those  who 
dwell  in  the  Park — that  they  are  all  unfit  to  eat,  being 
infested  by  worms.  This  is  an  error.  About  half  the 
trout  are  as  sound  as  any  other  fish,  and  can  be  readily 
distinguished  from  the  diseased  ones.  In  the  middle  of 
the  Lake  it  is  said  that  all  are  sound, — a  statement  for 
the  truth  of  which  I  cannot  vouch.  Our  Englishman 
caught  a  dozen  in  the  river  just  after  it  leaves  the  Lake. 
The  cook  assorted  them,  threw  away  the  bad  ones,  and 
fried  the  others,  which  proved  to  be  as  good  fish  as  I 
ever  ate.  The  next  day,  on  the  way  to  the  Falls,  I 
stopped  for  a  short  time  to  catch  a  few  of  the  numerous 
two-pounders  that  I  saw  swimming  near  the  shore. 
Further  down  the  Yellowstone  the  trout  are  smaller 
and  less  abundant  than  near  the  Lake,  so  that  there  is 


THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE   PARK.  291 

some  sport  in  catching  them;  but  where  I  stopped  it 
was  very  much  like  fishing  in  a  reservoir  filled  with 
hungry  hatched  fish.  All  I  had  to  do  was  to  select  my 
fish,  place  the  bait  before  his  nose,  and  pull  him  in.  I 
took  along  half-a-dozen  which  I  knew  to  be  sound,  but 
at  the  Falls  hotel  I  was  informed  that  their  French 
cook  refused  to  touch  the  Lake  trout.  As  the  hotel 
itself  furnished  trout  for  supper  caught  below  the  Falls, 
where  they  are  admitted  to  be  sound,  I  did  not  argue 
the  point  with  the  cook,  who  was  busy  providing  for 
an  excursion  party  of  fifty. 

If  the  Yellowstone  region  contained  nothing  but  the 
two  falls  at  this  place,  and  the  Grand  Canon,  it  would 
have  been  worth  while  to  reserve  it  as  a  National  Park 
for  all  time.  The  two  falls,  though  only  half  a  mile 
apart,  are  utterly  different  in  character;  as  the  smaller, 
upper  one  plunges  into  a  quiet,  small  basin  in  a  se- 
cluded idyllic  retreat,  while  the  lower  plunges  three 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  down  an  abyss  which  is  formed 
by  the  stupendous  walls  of  the  Grand  Canon,  of  which 
several  miles  lie  before  the  eyes  of  the  dazed  spectator. 
The  best  place  to  enjoy  the  grandeur  of  the  Falls  and 
the  Canon  is  not  at  Lookout  Point,  as  is  generally 
believed,  but  at  the  edge  of  the  Falls.  Seen  from  a 
distance  above,  these  Falls  present  a  unique  sight.  The 
water  flows  on  like  any  other  rapid  current  until  sud- 
denly it  appears  to  vanish  in  the  air.  On  approaching 
the  edge  of  the  Falls,  this  illusion  resolves  itself  into  a 
scene  which  Niagara  can  hardly  equal.  As  the  water 
plunges  into  the  pool  below,  it  is  dissolved  into  clouds 
of  vapor  that  put  to  shame  the  steam  columns  of  the 
biggest  geysers.  The  breakers  which  wildly  dash  against 
the  sides  of  the  pool  indicate  the  turbulence  of  the 


292        THKOUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PAKK. 

water  beneath  this  spray  and  foam.  Some  of  the  spray 
is  carried  by  the  wind  to  the  abrupt  walls  of  the  Canon, 
where  it  nourishes  mosses  and  lichens,  which  add  one 
more  color  to  the  numerous  tints  that  adorn  these 
rocks.  These  tints  bewilder  by  their  variety  and  rich- 
ness. The  same  strong  mineral  waters  that  have  painted 
such  exquisite  brook-bottoms  in  the  Geyser  Basins  here 
undertook  a  kind  of  fresco-painting  on  a  scale  of  the 
most  sublime  grandeur. 

Near  the  summits  of  some  of  the  rocks  may  be  seen 
some  curious  caves.  Other  rocks  terminate  in  turrets 
and  pinnacles  suggesting  mediaeval  architecture  ;  and 
some  of  the  rocky  walls  are  adorned  with  a  mosaic  of 
brown,  red,  yellow,  and  white,  as  elaborate  as  the  floor 
of  St.  Mark's  in  Venice.  Some  of  the  turrets,  when 
you  climb  up  to  them,  appear  so  woefully  weather- 
beaten  that  it  looks  as  if  you  could  kick  them  over ;  but 
you  cannot.  The  torrent,  at  a  dizzy  depth  below,  in  which 
the  green  water  struggles  wildly  for  supremacy  with 
the  white  foam,  enlivens  the  scene ;  and  in  one  place  a 
turn  of  the  river-bed,  near  a  streak  of  painted  rock, 
gives  the  impression  of  two  water-falls  side  by  side,  one 
green,  the  other  red ;  one  in  motion,  the  other  frozen. 

From  the  Grand  Canon  the  coupon  tourists  return  to 
the  Mammoth  Springs  and  Livingston,  while  those  who 
travel  independently  can  enjoy  the  ride  over  Mt.  Wash- 
burn,  with  its  extended  views  of  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
its  fertile  sides  fairly  crammed  with  flowers  of  the 
richest  colors  and  strangest  varieties,  and  its  solitary 
trail  through  the  depths  of  a  primeval  forest,  frequently 
blocked  by  fallen  trees,  on  which  one  may  not  meet  a 
human  being  in  eight  hours,  nor  hear  any  sound  but 
the  melancholy  moan  of  a  poor  tree  against  which  a 


FALLS  OF   THE    YELLOWSTONE. 


THROUGH  YELLOWSTONE  PARK.  293 

dead  trunk  has  fallen,  and  is  wounding  it  with  every 
movement  of  the  wind.  The  dismal  delight  of  this 
ride  is  as  indescribable  as  the  exciting  sport  of  trouting 
that  may  be  enjoyed  at  Yancey's,  whence  it  is  but  a 
short  distance  back  to  our  starting-point,  the  Mammoth 
Springs  Hotel. 

After  spending  a  week  in  the  National  Park  on 
horseback,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  what  the  Park 
chiefly  needs  now  is  a  railroad,  —  not  a  steam  railway, 
which  would  frighten  the  game  and  set  fire  to  the 
forests,  but  an  electric  railroad.  Great  as  are  the  won- 
ders of  the  Yellowstone  Park,  the  intervening  distances 
are  so  great  and  the  scenery  often  so  commonplace, 
that  nothing  would  be  lost,  and  very  much  gained,  by 
having  an  electric  road.  Dust  and  fatigue  could  be 
thus  avoided,  and  more  time  devoted  to  the  wonders  of 
the  Park  in  three  days  than  at  present  in  a  week. 


XVIII. 
THE   GRAND   CAftON   OF   THE   COLORADO. 

FROM    LOS     ANGELES    TO    PEACH    SPRING DESERT    WIND 

AN   ARIZONA   VILLAGE INDIANS DESCENSUS  AVERNO  — 

EXTRAORDINARY      MOUNTAIN       ARCHITECTURE  SILENCE 

AND    DESOLATION A    BEWITCHED    CREEK UP    THE    DIA- 
MOND    CANON THE    GRAND     CANON   AND     THE     RIVER 

NEW   MEXICO   AND    KANSAS. 

IT  is  unfortunate  for  travellers  that  the  masterpieces 
of  American  scenery  are  not  all  grouped  along  one  or 
two  of  the  transcontinental  railways.  As  it  is,  each 
line  has  its  own  lions,  and  to  see  them  all  one  has  to 
cross  the  continent  more  than  once.  Some  of  the  prin- 
cipal features  of  the  Canadian  Pacific,  Northern  Pacific, 
Union  Pacific,  and  Southern  ^Pacific  railways  have  been 
commented  upon  in  preceding  pages,  and  it  remains  to 
notice  the  lion  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  or  Santa  F6 
route,  which  is  nothing  less  than  the  Grand  Cafion  of  the 
Colorado  River,  which  Captain  Dutton  considers  "the 
sublimest  thing  on  earth."  It  is  one  of  the  sublimest 
things  on  earth,  beyond  a  doubt ;  yet  how  many  readers 
of  this  book,  all  of  whom  are  of  course  highly  educated 
persons,  are  able  to  tell,  without  consulting  their  geog- 
raphy, where  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Colorado  is  ?  In 
Colorado,  of  course,  nine  out  of  ten  will  say.  But  Col- 
orado has  only  the  honor  of  giving  birth  to  the  smaller 
294 


THE  GRAND   CA$ON   OF   THE   COLORADO.  295 

rivers  which  unite  to  form  the  mighty  Colorado,  and 
which  are  fed  by  the  snow  of  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
As  Major  Powell  graphically  puts  it :  "  When  the  sum- 
mer sun  comes,  this  snow  melts,  and  tumbles  down 
the  mountain  sides  in  millions  of  cascades.  Ten  mil- 
lion cascade  brooks  unite  to  form  ten  thousand  torrent 
creeks  ;  ten  thousand  torrent  creeks  unite  to  form  a  hun- 
dred rivers  beset  with  cataracts ;  a  hundred  roaring  riv- 
ers unite  to  form  the  Colorado,  which  rolls,  a  mad, 
turbid  stream,  into  the  Gulf  of  California,"  about  two 
thousand  miles  from  its  sources.  Only  about  six  hun- 
dred miles  of  the  lower  part  of  the  river  are  navigable, 
on  account  of  the  earth  fissures,  or  canons,  through  which 
it  has  eaten  its  way  for  five  hundred  miles.  Some  of 
these  canons  are  in  Utah,  but  the  two  largest  and  most 
famous  —  the  Marble  and  the  Grand  —  are  in  Arizona. 
The  longest  of  the  canons  is  two  hundred  and  seven- 
teen and  one-half  miles  long,  and  is  separated  from 
another  one  of  sixty-five  and  one-half  miles  only  by  a 
narrow  valley. 

Lieutenant  Ives  says  of  the  Grand  Cafion  region: 
"  The  extent  and  magnitude  of  the  system  of  canons  in 
that  direction  is  astounding.  The  plateau  is  cut  into 
shreds  by  these  gigantic  chasms,  and  resembles  a  vast 
ruin.  Belts  of  country,  miles  in  width,  have  been  swept 
away,  leaving  only  isolated  mountains  standing  in  the 
gap;  fissures,  so  profound  that  the  naked  eye  cannot 
penetrate  their  depths,  aro  separated  by  walls  whose 
thickness  one  can  almost  span,  and  slender  spires  that 
seem  tottering  upon  their  base  shoot  up  a  thousand  feet 
from  vaults  below."  Or,  as  Major  Powell  puts  it,  the 
tributary  streams,  like  the  Colorado,  "  have  cut  gorges 
of  their  own  ;  and  they  all  have  wet-weather  affluents, 
that  run  in  deep  cations.  It  is  a  cafion  land." 


296          THE  GRAND   CA&ON  OF  THE  COLORADO, 

Previous  to  Major  Powell's  bold  expedition  down  this 
subterranean  river,  about  twenty  years  ago,  it  was  prac- 
tically a  terra  (or  rather  aqua)  incognita.  For  a  party 
of  scientific  men  and  artists  to  venture  in  a  few  frail 
boats  down  this  sun-forsaken  river,  shut  in  for  over  five 
hundred  miles  by  precipitous  walls  rising  sometimes 
over  a  mile  and  a  half  on  both  sides,  not  knowing  how 
soon  they  would  be  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  below 
a  water-fall,  or  sucked  into  a  suffocating  tunnel,  or 
starved  to  death  by  losing  their  provisions,  was  surely 
one  of  the  most  heroic  deeds  on  record,  comparable 
to  Columbus's  expedition  on  the  unknown,  illimitable 
ocean  in  search  of  a  new  world.  It  was  a  Jules  Verne 
novel  realized ;  and  I  know  of  no  romance  more  fasci- 
nating in  its  narrative  and  more  poetic  in  its  descriptions 
of  scenery,  than  Major  Powell's  account  of  this  expedi- 
tion, which  is  unfortunately  buried  amidst  the  govern- 
ment reports  of  geological  surveys.  At  least  four 
hundred  rapids,  eddies,  whirlpools,  falls,  and  cascades 
were  encountered,  and  many  were  the  hair-breadth 
escapes.  They  were  chilled  at  night,  and  in  the  day- 
time the  thermometer  sometimes  rose  to  115°,  in  this 
river  dungeon,  amidst  a  forest-like  gloom ;  but  still  they 
had  to  go  on,  for  return  was  impossible,  as  they  knew 
very  well  before  they  started.  Sometimes  the  water 
hurried  along  their  boats  with  the  speed  of  railroad 
trains.  The  rocks  on  both  sides  would  roll  the  water 
into  the  centre  in  great  waves,  and  the  boats  would  go 
leaping  and  bounding  over  these  "  like  black-tail  deer 
jumping  the  logs "  which  strew  the  forests.  Indians 
have  come  to  grief  here.  In  the  onomatopoetic  descrip- 
tion given  by  one  of  them,  "  The  rocks  h-e-a-p  high ;  the 
water  go  h-oo-woogh,  h-oo-woogh;  water-pony  [boat] 
h-e-a-p  buck ;  water  catch  'em ;  no  see." 


T11E   GRAND   CASfoX    OK   THK    COLORADO. 


THE  GRAND  CA&ON  OF  THE  COLORADO.  297 

I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  to  quote  two  more  brief 
passages  from  Major  Powell's  pages,  describing  portions 
of  the  Marble  and  Grand  Canons.  "  The  walls  of  the 
Canon,  twenty-five  hundred  feet  high,  are  of  marble,  of 
many  beautiful  colors,  and  often  polished  below  by  the 
waves,  or  far  up  the  sides,  where  showers  have  washed 
the  sands  over  the  cliffs.  At  one  place  I  have  a  walk, 
for  more  than  a  mile,  on  a  marble  pavement,  all  polished 
and  fretted  with  strange  devices  and  embossed  in  a 
thousand  fantastic  patterns.  Through  a  cleft  in  the  wall 
the  sun  shines  on  this  pavement,  which  gleams  in  irides- 
cent beauty."  "  In  other  regions  the  rocks,  when  not 
covered  with  soil,  or  more  vigorous  vegetation,  are  at 
least  lichened,  or  stained,  and  the  rocks  themselves  are 
of  sombre  hue,  but  in  this  region  they  are  naked,  and 
many  of  them  brightly  colored,  as  if  painted  by  artist- 
gods  ;  not  stained  and  daubed  with  inharmonious  hues, 
but  beautiful  as  flowers  and  gorgeous  as  the  clouds. 
Such  are  the  walls  of  the  Grand  Canon  of  the  Col- 
orado where  it  divides  the  twin  plateaus." 

No  one  can  read  even  these  few  extracts  without 
feeling  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Captain  Button's 
remark  that  the  Colorado  Canon  is  "  a  great  innovation 
in  modern  ideas  of  scenery,  and  in  our  conception  of  the 
grandeur,  beauty,  and  power  of  nature  " ;  and  without 
wishing  to  see  a  portion  at  least  of  this  Canon.  The 
Atlantic  and  Pacific  Railroad  is  at  present  the  only  one 
which  brings  tourists  into  its  vicinity ;  and  the  station 
to  get  off  at  is  Peach  Spring,  about  eighteen  hours'  ride 
from  Los  Angeles,  and  situated  twenty-three  miles  south 
of  the  Grand  Canon.  The  region  between  Los  Angeles 
and  Peach  Spring  presents  many  attractive  features. 
First  comes  the  city  of  Pasadena,  with  its  large  hotel. 


298  THE   GRAND   CAftON   OF   THE   COLORADO. 

charmingly  situated  near  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  the 
sides  of  which  present  a  peculiar  wavy  appearance.  In 
some  places  they  are  curiously  furrowed  and  crevassed, 
as  if  the  very  mountains  had  split  themselves  up  into 
town  lots  during  "boom"  times.  The  surface  is  bare 
in  the  autumn  except  for  a  few  trees  near  the  rocky 
summits ;  but  in  spring  the  lower  slopes  are  covered  by 
millions  of  fragrant  flowers,  springing  as  by  magic  from 
the  dust.  Other  picturesquely  situated  villages  follow, 
some  of  which  are  destined  no  doubt  to  become  flourish- 
ing towns.  At  present  they  are  a  curious  compound  of 
unfinished  buildings,  tents,  and  Mexican  mud  or  adobe 
houses. 

As  the  train  proceeds  in  a  northeastern  direction, 
towards  Barstow,  the  region  of  alternative  ocean  and 
mountain  breezes  is  gradually  left  behind,  and  an  arid 
desert  of  cactus,  sand,  and  rocks  is  traversed.  The  sun's 
rays,  no  longer  tempered  by  the  ocean  and  mountain 
refrigerators,  have  it  all  their  own  way,  and  the  wind  is 
powerless  in  their  clutches.  For  although  a  strong 
breeze  is  blowing,  it  feels  like  a  blast  from  a  hot  furnace, 
so  that  one  hesitates  whether  to  keep  the  car  windows 
open  and  desiccate,  or  closed  and  suffocate.  Peach 
Spring  I  found  to  be  an  Arizona  village  consisting  of 
five  saloons,  six  dwelling-houses,  a  "stage"  office,  and 
an  Indian  camp  in  the  background.  It  is  so  called,  ap- 
parently, because  no  peach  grows  within  a  hundred  miles, 
and  because  the  only  spring  in  the  neighborhood  is  four 
miles  from  the  depot,  whence  the  water  is  pumped  to 
the  station  with  an  engine  fed  with  coal  that  is  brought 
there  from  the  station.  Mr.  Farlee,  the  man  who  has 
this  coal  contract,  also  undertakes  to  convey  tourists  to 
the  Grand  Canon.  He  is  an  intelligent  man,  whose  en- 


THE   GRAND   CA$ON   OF   THE  COLORADO.  299 

terprise  has  built  a  fair  road,  twenty-three  miles  in  length, 
generally  along  or  in  a  dry  river-bed,  which,  after  every 
freshet,  calls  for  extra  labor  in  clearing  away  the  rocks 
wildly  strewn  about  by  the  strong  current.  As  there  is 
no  possibility  of  missing  this  road,  I  secured  a  pony  of 
Mr.  Farlee,  and  started  alone  for  the  Canon  ;  and  on  the 
whole  way  I  saw  no  soul  except  an  Indian,  who  rather 
suspiciously  went  behind  a  tree  near  the  road  as  I  ap- 
proached. Being  weaponless,  I  met  any  possible  scalp- 
hunting  propensities  on  his  part  by  a  cordial  "  Good 
morning,"  which  he  as  cordially  echoed.  The  Indians 
of  this  neighborhood  are  lazy,  and,  with  few  exceptions, 
refuse  to  do  any  work  even  for  good  pay.  Their  filthi- 
ness,  also,  is  great ;  and  no  wonder,  considering  that  the 
nearest  spring  is  four  miles  away  and  monopolized  by 
the  railroad  company. 

A  mile  or  two  beyond  this  spring  is  another  one, 
where  the  horse  may  be  watered.  During  the  remain- 
ing eighteen  miles  there  is  only  one  spring,  and  if  the 
traveller  misses  that,  he  has  to  suffer  agonies  of  thirst, 
unless  he  has  wisely  provided  himself  with  a  flask  of  tea 
or  lemonade.  The  brisk,  hot  breeze  which  sometimes 
blows  only  aids  the  physiological  desiccating  process, 
and  the  result  is  a  temporary  dipsomania,  in  the  frenzy 
of  which  one  would  gladly  give  a  gold  coin  for  a  glass 
of  lemonade.  Nothing  but  forbidding  cactus  and  a  few 
similar  tough  and  spiny  plants  can  resist  this  heat ;  hence 
the  whole  region  seems  barren,  and  the  few  animals  one 
may  chance  to  see  —  a  hawk,  butterfly,  rabbit,  or  cata- 
mount —  but  add  to  the  desolation  of  the  scene.  There 
is  not  a  sound  in  the  air,  and  the  silence  is  as  absolute 
as  on  an  Alpine  snow-field,  or  in  mid-ocean  during  a 
calm.  The  slightest  sound  made  in  urging  on  the 


300          THE   GRAND   CAftON   OF  THE   COLORADO. 

weary  horse  is  echoed  by  the  hill-sides  though  they  are 
several  miles  away. 

The  mountain  scenery  is  unique  and  grand,  and 
becomes  more  so  the  nearer  we  approach  the  Grand 
Canon.  For  the  road  is  a  regular  descensus  Averno, 
taking  us  deeper  and  deeper  down  between  the  moun- 
tain walls;  and  when  we  reach  the  end  of  it  we  are 
almost  a  mile  nearer  the  sea-level  than  we  were  at 
Peach  Spring. 

At  a  spot  about  a  mile  from  the  river  Mr.  Farlee 
intends  to  erect  a  large  hotel.  Sandstone,  granite,  and 
other  fine  building-material  lie  about  in  profusion,  and 
only  need  to  be  hewn  and  piled  up  architecturally.  At 
present  there  is  nothing  but  a  very  primitive  hut,  with 
accommodations  for  about  a  dozen  persons.  The  inn  is 
run  by  one  man,  whose  special  duty  it  also  is  to  keep  his 
end  of  the  road  in  order ;  and  a  lonely  life  he  must  lead 
in  this  solitary  hut,  twenty  miles  from  any  other  human 
habitation.  When  there  are  no  guests  to  take  care  of, 
he  fills  his  canteen  with  water  and  starts  up  the  valley, 
to  roll  the  stones  out  of  the  road.  In  the  evening  he 
wraps  himself  in  his  blanket  and  goes  to  sleep,  with  the 
starry  firmament  for  a  roof,  regardless  of  possible  dis- 
agreeable neighbors,  such  as  centipedes  or  rattlesnakes. 
He  says  he  sleeps  in  the  open  air  two-thirds  of  the  time, 
and  has  not  been  ill  for  thirty-five  years.  Yet  the  heat 
in  this  part  of  the  Canon  (which  is  so  deep  that  stars  are 
often  visible  in  the  daytime,  and  at  night  I  saw  a  million 
more  stars  than  ever  before)  must  be  a  terrible  strain  on 
his  system,  as  it  sometimes  rises  to  120  °  in  the  shade, 
with  not  a  breath  of  air. 

I  shall  never  forgive  this  man,  or  his  employer,  for 
having  nothing  sour  in  the  house  except  a  spoonful  of 


THE   GRAND   CAftON   OF   THE  COLORADO.          301 

very  bad  vinegar  —  no  pickles,  lemons,  or  even  a  grain 
of  lemon  sugar,  which,  by  the  way,  every  traveller  in 
hot  regions  should  always  carry  with  him.  So  I  had  to 
content  myself,  on  arrival,  with  tea  and  water.  The 
water  is  good,  although  superstitious  people  might  hesi- 
tate to  drink  it,  as  it  comes  from  a  brook  —  Diamond 
Creek  —  which  seems  to  be  bewitched.  Just  in  front  of 
the  hotel  a  portion  of  this  creek,  about  half  a  mile  in 
length,  disappears  every  day  towards  noon,  although 
above  and  below  this  place  it  flows  on  merrily  and  abun- 
dantly. About  ten  o'clock  at  night  the  water  suddenly 
returns  to  the  deserted  portion  of  its  bed.  Mr.  Farlee 
has  repeatedly  dug  down  many  feet  to  find  the  subterra- 
nean brook-bed,  but  in  vain.  It  almost  seems  as  if  the 
water,  after  leaving  the  cool  and  deep  Diamond  Canon, 
were  afraid  of  being  absorbed  by  the  superheated  air  in 
the  open  space  in  which  the  hotel  is  situated,  and  there- 
fore concealed  itself  underground. 

I  still  felt  so  desiccated,  after  my  four  cups  of  tea  and 
about  ten  glasses  of  lukewarm  water,  that  I  made  the 
man  in  charge  of  the  hotel  promise  to  wake  me  at  10 
P.M.,  as  soon  as  the  mysterious  creek  commenced  to  run 
again.  He  did  so,  depositing  a  bucket  of  the  water  at 
my  bed,  and  it  was  delightfully  cool  and  refreshing.  A 
breeze  had  sprung  up,  and  the  night  air  was  tolerably 
cool ;  but  the  man  slept  out  of  doors  all  the  same. 

Possibly  there  may  be  a  poetic  Indian  legend  account- 
ing in  some  such  manner  for  the  fact  that  even  the 
broad  Colorado  River  has  in  this  region  dug  its  way 
into  the  bowels  of  the  earth  so  deeply  that  it  now  runs 
more  than  a  mile  below  the  summit  of  its  precipitous 
banks.  Yet,  after  all,  there  lies  more  poetry  and  sub- 
limity in  the  scientific  account  of  the  manner  in  which 


302  THE   GRAND   CANON   OF   THE   COLORADO. 

the  soft  water  has,  by  infinitesimal  degrees,  worn  its 
channel  through  these  hard  rocks,  and  even  through  the 
lava,  with  which  Major  Powell  thinks  this  river-bed  has 
been  filled  more  than  once :  "  What  a  conflict  of  water 
and  fire  there  must  have  been  here !  Just  imagine  a 
river  of  molten  rock  running  down  into  a  river  of  melted 
snow.  What  a  seething  and  boiling  of  the  waters ; 
what  clouds  of  steam  rolled  into  the  heavens !  "  But  it 
must  be  frankly  admitted  that  those  who  visit  the 
Grand  Canon,  with  anticipations  at  fever  heat  from 
reading  Powell's  exciting  and  poetic  description  of  his 
adventurous  trip  down  the  Colorado,  will  be  somewhat 
disappointed  at  first  sight  of  this  river.  It  is  about  a 
mile  from  Farlee's  inn,  and  is  reached  by  following  Dia- 
mond Creek,  which  empties  into  it.  On  comparing  the 
mud  color  of  the  Colorado  with  the  crystalline  purity  of 
this  creek,  one  realizes  to  what  the  latter  might  owe  its 
name. 1  Rapid  the  Colorado  is,  and  broad,  and  its  walls 
do  rise  to  the  height  of  a  mile,  but  they  slope  and 
recede  towards  the  background,  and  in  vain  does  the 
tourist  look  for  the  "granite  prison  walls"  rising 
abruptly  from  the  edge  of  the  water,  and  almost  meet- 
ing above  so  as  to  shut  out  the  daylight,  their  sides 
adorned  with  floating  clouds  and  with  the  water-falls 
and  cascades  of  tributary  streams. 

Yet  in  truth  it  is  foolish  to  look  for  all  these  things 
here —  to  expect  that  all  the  wonders  of  Mr.  Powell's 
long  and  perilous  tour  should  be  concentrated  in  one 
place  for  the  convenience  of  tourists.  The  fact  is,  that 
the  most  sublime  portions  of  the  Canon  are  at  present 
inaccessible  except  to  those  who  are  willing  to  undergo  the 

1  It  is  said,  however,  that  the  creek  owes  its  name  to  the  fact  that 
diamonds  were  once  "planted"  here,  to  deceive  investors. 


THE   GRAND   CAflON   OF   THE  COLORADO.          803 

same' dangers  and  hardships  as  Major  Powell.  One  can 
readily  believe  -the  legends  of  parched  travellers  wander- 
ing along  the  brink  of  this  Canon  for  days,  and  "  perishing 
with  thirst  at  last,  in  sight  of  the  river  which  was  roar- 
ing its  mockery  into  dying  ears."  Powell  himself  once 
spent  four  days  wandering  along  the  river,  trying  to  get 
down.  Diamond  Creek  seems  to  afford  the  only  en- 
trance to  the  Grand  Canon.  The  Atlantic  and  Pacific 
Railroad  entertains  a  project  of  building  an  eighty-mile 
branch  road  from  Flagstaff  to  the  Canon.  Such  a  road 
would  offer  many  attractions,  as  it  would  pass  by  some 
of  the  ancient  cliff  dwellings  and  the  snow-capped  San 
Francisco  Mountains.  It  would,  however,  arrive  at  the 
top  instead  of  at  the  bottom  of  the  Canon,  which  would 
thus  lose  some  of  its  cathedral  grandeur.  Possibly  the 
tourists  might  be  let  down  to  the  river  by  means  of  a 
miner's  shaft,  in  which  case  a  ride  of  a  few  miles  down 
the  river  on  a  boat  (or  "  water-pony,"  as  the  Indians  call 
it)  should  be  added  to  the  programme.  But  this  would 
be  at  the  Marble  Canon.  For  the  Grand  Canon,  Peach 
Spring  will  probably  remain  the  stopping  station ;  and 
for  their  partial  disappointment  in  the  Grand  Canon 
itself,  tourists  will  be  amply  repaid  by  a  visit  to  the  Dia- 
mond Canon,  which  is  reached  by  going  up  Diamond 
Creek,  a  few  miles  from  Mr.  Farlee's  inn.  Here  they 
will  find  what  they  longed  to  see,  —  perpendicular,  awe- 
inspiring  walls,  not,  indeed,  a  mile,  but  more  than  half  a 
mile,  in  height  (twenty-seven  hundred  feet),  topped 
with  fanciful  pinnacles  and  domes,  and  producing  a 
feeling  of  gloomy  sublimity  as  refreshing  to  the  soul 
as  the  coolness  of  this  granite  prison  is  to  the  body. 

Diamond  Canon  and  the  Grand  Canon  may  be  vis- 
ited on  the  day  of  arrival  at  Farlee's  inn.     Leaving  the 


304  THE   GRAND    CA^OST    OF   THE   COLORADO. 

afternoon  of  the  second  day  for  the  return  to  Peach 
Spring,  no  visitor  should  fail  to  ascend  Prospect  Point, 
which  forms  one  of  the  banks  of  the  river,  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  is  an  hour's  hard  climb  from  the  inn,  but  it 
repays  the  toil  a  hundred-fold.  From  the  summit  one 
obtains  several  picturesque  glimpses  of  the  yellow  Col- 
orado, afar  down,  where  it  seems  a  mere  brook  ;  and  of 
course  the  surrounding  mountains  do  not  appear  in  their 
true  size  and  grandeur  until  one  sees  them  from  this 
elevated  point  of  view.  These  mountains  all  have  a 
curious  family  likeness.  Their  basis  is  always  formed 
by  a  striated,  vertical  layer,  reddish  or  brown ;  then  fol- 
lows a  story  or  layer  which  slopes  like  a  roof,  suggest- 
ing human  architectural  efforts,  but  on  a  scale  of  infinite 
grandeur ;  and  above  this  are  several  more  distinct  strata 
towering  straight  into  the  skies.  It  is  the  constant 
sight  of  these  superb  and  unique  mountains,  on  the  way 
from  Peach  Spring,  that  partly  prevents  tourists  from 
being  as  deeply  impressed  as  they  would  otherwise  be 
at  first  sight  of  the  Grand  Canon.  "  They  get  their 
belly  full  before  they  reach  the  river,"  as  Mr.  Farlee  for- 
cibly remarked. 

After  leaving  Peach  Spring,  east-bound  tourists  may, 
if  they  have  time,  stop  over  at  several  places  of  interest 
which  will  claim  a  day  each,  —  cliff  dwellings,  San  Fran- 
cisco Mountains,  Pueblo  villages,  Sante  Fe\  etc.  If  they 
lack  time,  the  car  window  still  affords  many  pleasant 
sights  which  charm,  even  after  the  Grand  Canon,  includ- 
ing the  Canon  Diablo,  two  hundred  and  twenty-two  feet 
deep,  which  the  train  bridges  in  the  midst  of  a  plain. 
Beyond  Albuquerque  the  evidence  multiplies  that  water 
is  more  abundant,  and  New  Mexico  has  many  pictur- 
esque and  healthful  spots,  with  wooded  hills  and  green 


THE   GRAND   CASfON   OF   THE  COLORADO.  305 

meadows,  which  only  await  the  arrival  of  pioneers  to  be 
soon  converted  into  populous  and  flourishing  districts. 
Small  pine  forests  make  their  appearance,  and  one 
readily  understands  why  they  are  locally  known  as 
"  parks,"  so  clear  are  they  of  all  underbrush  and  rubbish. 
In  Kansas,  bits  of  local  color  present  themselves  in  the 
shape  of  immense  herds  of  cattle,  the  three  guardian 
angels  of  one  of  which  (alias  cowboys)  race  with  the 
train  quite  successfully  for  a  short  distance.  But  while 
all  these  incidents  and  scenes  are  apt  to  be  soon  forgot- 
ten, the  Grand  Canon  remains  stereotyped  in  the  mem- 
ory, where  fresh  copies  can  always  be  produced  at  will. 
"  Great  as  is  the  fame  of  the  Grand  Canon  of  the 
Colorado,  the  half  remains  to  be  told,"  as  Captain  Dut- 
ton  remarks  in  his  "  Tertiary  History  of  the  Grand 
Canon,"  the  eighth  chapter  of  which,  "  The  Panorama 
from  Point  Sublime,"  is  one  of  the  most  valuable  essays 
on  natural  aesthetics  ever  written,  and  should  be  read  by 
all  who  make  the  Great  American  Scenic  Tour. 


INDEX. 


Abalone  shells,  69. 
Alaska,  231-247. 
Anaheim,  36. 
Astoria,  187. 
Avalon,  69. 

Banff,  267. 
Berkeley,  123. 
Berries,  Oregon,  179. 
Big  Trees,  102. 

Cable-cars,  108,  111. 

Cactus,  37.  • 

California,  Preface,  1-154. 

Camping,  31. 

Canadian  National  Park,  268-276. 

Canadian  Pacific  Railroad,  248-261. 

Carson  City,  142. 

Cascade  Range,  184. 

Catalina  Island,  45,  58-74. 

Cattle-raising,  20. 

Chinese  in  California,  80,  112-120; 
in  Oregon,  166-171,  186. 

Chula  Vista,  52. 

Clatsop,  176. 

Climate,  in  Southern  California, 
Preface,  7,  25-31,  34,  49,  60,  78;  in 
San  Francisco,  123,  127;  in  Ore- 
gon, 161 ;  in  Washington,  230. 

Coal,  in  Washington,  221. 

Columbia  River,  182-202,  258,  266. 

Coronado,  49. 

Crater  Lake,  156. 


Dalles,  the,  201. 
Desert,  3,  80. 
Devil's  Head  Lake,  271. 
Diamond  Creek,  303. 
Donner  Lake,  128. 

El  Paso,  3. 
Elsinore  Lake,  47. 
Eucalyptus,  9. 

Farming,  19. 

Ferns,  173,  178. 

Fir-trees,  181,  237. 

Fishing,  Catalina  Island,  71 ;  Tahoe 
Lake,  137;  Columbia  River,  sal- 
mon, 186;  Devil's  Head  Lake,  272; 
Yellowstone,  290. 

Flowers,  in  California,  26, 48,  69,  78, 
83,  106;  in  Oregon,  179. 

Foothills,  21. 

Forest  colors,  266 ;  fires,  219,  248. 

Frazer  River,  235. 

Fruit,  Southern  California,  10;  Ore- 
gon, 160,  180. 

Fullerton,  6. 

Glacier  Bay,  246;    Glacier  House, 

259. 

Goats,  wild,  67. 
Grand   Canon,    Colorado,  295-505; 

Yellowstone,  291. 
Grapes,  12. 


808 


INDEX. 


Hood,  Mt.,  163, 184, 190, 200,  204-206. 
Humming-birds,  64. 

Ilwaco,  173. 

Indians,  Alaskan,  241 ;  relics,  Cata- 

lina  Islands,  69;  camp  at  Sisson's, 

153. 
Irrigation,  22-25. 

Japan  Current,  61. 
Japanese  and  Indians,  243. 
Juneau,  241. 

Klamath  Lake,  156. 

Laguna,  47. 

Limes  versus  Lemons,  54. 

Livingston,  279. 

Los  Angeles,  2,  4-14,  16,  18. 

Lumber  iu  Washington,  220. 

Mariposa  Grove,  102. 
Mariposa  lily,  69. 
Mexican  border,  49. 
Mexicans,  79. 
Minnewonka  Lake,  271. 
Mojave  Desert,  80. 
Mountain  forests,  261. 
Muir  Glacier,  245. 
Mustard  fields,  55,  58. 

National  City,  51. 
Nevada,  140. 
New  Orleans,  2. 

Oakland,  123. 

Olympia,  225. 

Olympic  mountains,  226. 

Opium  dens,  116. 

Orange,  40. 

Oranges,  36-48. 

Oregon,*Preface,  85, 155-206. 

Oregon  mountains,  163. 

Oregon  suow-peaks,  162,  184,  204- 

206, 230. 
Ostrich  farm,  11. 


Pacific  Coast,  mountainous  charac- 
ter of,  108. 
Pampas  plumes,  13. 
Pasadena,  279. 
Peach  Spring,  298. 
Pelicans,  72. 
Pepper-trees,  9. 
Portland,  162-171,  184. 
Port  Townsend,  230. 
Prohibition  in  California,  44. 
Puget  Sound,  217-230. 

Quail,  13,  64. 

Rabbit-hunting,  37. 

Railroads,  transcontinental,  Preface, 
ix ;  Southern  Pacific,  1 ;  Califor- 
nia Southern,  46 ;  California  Cen- 
tral, 56;  Central  Pacific,  127; 
Oregon  and  California,  149;  North- 
ern Pacific,  213,  218,  279;  Cana- 
dian Pacific,  248;  Atlantic  and 
Pacific,  294. 

Rain,  155. 

Rainier,  Mt.,  210. 

Rattlesnakes,  65. 

Raymond,  81. 

Rivers,  155, 183. 

Riverside,  41. 

Rocky  Mountains,  264. 

Rural  cities  of  the  future,  31. 

St.  Elias,  Mt.,  233. 
St.  Helens,  Mt.,  207. 
Salem,  Oregon,  165. 
Salmon-canneries,  186. 
Scenery,  American,  205. 
Selkirk  Mountains,  259. 
Shoalwater  Bay,  173. 
Snow-peaks,  in  Oregon  and  Wash- 
ington, 203-216. 

Tacoma,  162,  218-223. 
Tacoma,  Mt.,  209-216,  223. 
Tahoe  Lake,  129-140. 
Tia  Juana,  52. 


INDEX. 


309 


Trees.  Big,  102. 
Truckee,  128. 

Vancouver,  249. 
ATegetables  in  California,  10. 
Victoria,  249. 
Vine  disease,  12. 
Virginia  City,  143. 

Washington,  207-230. 

Washington  snow-peaks,  162,  184, 
204-216,  230. 

Water-falls,  Yosemite,  89,  96.  98; 
Columbia  River,  194;  Yellow- 
stone, 291. 


Wawona,  82. 102. 
Whitney,  Mt..  150. 
Willamette  River,  155,  164. 
Willamette  Valley,  158. 
Windmills,  7. 
Wine,  California,  12. 
Winnipeg,  279. 
Winter  bathing  in  California,  60. 

Yale,  254. 

Yellowstone  Lake,  289. 
Yellowstone  Park,  279-293. 
Yosemite  Valley,  80-107. 


Presswork  by  Berwick  &  Smith,  Boston. 
Typography  by  J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.,  Boston. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


LD-URl 


OCT 


DISC 


1  2  1980 


Form  L9— Series  444 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF 


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A    001  322215    3 


